


Holly Potter and the Secret War

by cheesew97



Series: The Biography of Holly Potter [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bisexual Character, Bisexuality, Book 5: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Gen, Genderbending, Genderswap, Hogwarts, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, POV Lesbian Character, Psychological Trauma, Queer Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2019-10-09 15:25:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 23
Words: 53,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17409410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheesew97/pseuds/cheesew97
Summary: Holly Potter is desperate for the holidays to end and to find out why her godmother, Sirius Black, has been so secretive over summer. Arriving at the secret headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, Holly and her friends, Ronnie Weasley, Hamish Williams and Heracles Granger, are confronted by the reality of an espionage war, and the Ministry for Magic's desperate attempts to cover it up. Desquin Umbridge is appointed their new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, but it soon becomes clear his presence has more sinister motives than simply teaching them defensive theory from an outdated textbook. So begins Holly's fifth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, may she live in interesting times indeed.





	1. The Summer

**Holly**

The setting sun cast its red rays across Ayers Rock, across which faint shadows flitted. The landscape was quiet except the odd shout from the source of those shadows. As the heat of the day began to leave, the sounds of daytime insects and birds were replaced by those of the night shift.

“C’mon guys, time to pack some things,” Mr Granger called, interrupting their game of Quidditch. “These tents won’t come down themselves.”

Holly sighed, she had just put on her game face. Pointing her broom back towards the ground, she flew down to the campsite. Most of the things had been packed away, leaving only the tents and the odd bits and bobs lying about the fireplace. Hamish landed beside her, shortly followed by Ronnie and Heracles.

“How about me and Cles do this tent and you guys do the other?” Holly suggested, pointing to the green tent.

“Can do,” Hamish replied, removing a peg from the other tent as he and Ronnie got to work.

She and Heracles make quick work of dismantling the tent, probably due to the lack of Mr Weasley stopping them and asking questions every few seconds. Unfortunately, putting it in its bag proved more troublesome, even with the help of Mrs Granger who held the bag open. After much struggling, and Heracles nearly losing a finger to Holly’s rapid rolling of the outer tent, Mrs Granger could finally put the tent in its bag.

“There we are,” she said happily, looking over to where Mr Granger was still struggling with Hamish and Ronnie with their tent. “Seems I win this Harold.”

“Whatever dear,” Mr Granger replied between gasps.

“Don’t see why we can’t just use our wands for this,” Ronnie complained. “It’s not as if anyone saw us playing Quidditch,” she said as she unhooked her satchel from the small tree by their camp.

“Brooms aren’t affected by the Trace, Ronnie,” Heracles said matter-of-factly.

“Beside the point, Cles,” Ronnie cried, much to Holly’s amusement.

Holly threw the last of her things into her own rucksack before picking up her broom from where she had dropped it. Mr and Mrs Granger were already standing by the thicket, holding the empty beer bottle that was their way home.

“Come on everyone,” Holly called to her friends. “The portkey’s nearly ready to go.”

After a week in Australia, Holly was ready for the next part of her summer. Hamish and Heracles jogged over to place a finger or two on the bottle, prompting Holly to do the same. Ronnie quickly joined them.

“Enjoy your last breath of the Outback kids,” Mr Granger smiled. “Not sure I’ll ever get over travelling this way,” he muttered to Holly.

She chuckled as she felt the familiar tug on her navel as the world span and dissolved around her, Mr Granger’s noises of discomfort lost in the whirling wind.

)(

After a week of hectic Weasley meals, it was nice for Holly to sit down to a calm table for tea. Hamish’s mother, Gwen sat down at the head of the table as her husband Dougal plopped the last saucepan of potatoes onto the table.

“Long time no see, how is everyone?” Gwen asked the table around her.

“I’m fine thanks, Mrs Williams,” Heracles replied as Dougal served their stuffed courgettes.

“It’s great to have a break from Fred and George,” Ronnie answered.

Holly nodded as Dougal began doling out potatoes. “Yeah it’s nice being here for a change, thanks.”

“Dougal? You’ve forgotten to make any veg again,” Gwen told him as he finally sat down.

“I have? Och must’ve slipped ma mind gràidhean,” he said in mock horror, giving Holly a small wink.

“Dad, do ye think I could borrow ye broom for my project?” Hamish piped up.

“I dunno Hamish, why don’t ye ask yer mother?”

“I’m not comfortable with you experimenting in the house, Hamish,” Gwen said reprovingly, prompting him to finish his potatoes in silence. “If you want to play around with an older Comet that’s fine, but please don’t fiddle with our brooms.”

“Yes mum.”

The meal continued with small talk about their adventures in Australia, or the gnome infestation in the Weasley garden, while Dougal and Gwen told them what little they could about what they had been up to since the end of the Triwizard Tournament.

“Albus wants to try an’ keep who knows what tight,” Dougal explained.

“Does he think we can’t be trusted?” Holly asked, feeling stung by the revelation that Professor Dumbledore was keeping information about the war away from her. “I mean I only saw him, I only fought him!”

“Holly cariad, we understand how you feel,” Gwen leapt to comfort her, but Holly removed her hand. “If it was up to us you would know as much as we do, if not more.”

“It’s a question of security,” Dougal emphasised. “The fewer people know, the better.”

As the meal came to a close, Holly, wanting to be privy to her own secrets, turned to Hamish.

“What is your project?” She asked quietly.

“I’m adding modifications to some brooms, trying different combinations,” he replied. “Handles, different stirrups, that sort of thing.”

“Sounds awesome,” she said in response as they cleared their plates.

After the meal, Ronnie suggested a game of gobstones, only to be disappointed by everyone else wanting to go to bed. Despite her enthusiasm for sleep, Holly had real difficulty drifting off. This might have had something to do with Ronnie’s snores, which seemed to shake the walls. A few times it seemed as if she had woken herself with a particularly loud and gurgling breath, only to continue after several seconds.

When she finally did sleep, it was interrupted by nightmares of graveyards at night and flashes of green light. Sitting up in bed, Holly sighed. Perhaps some warm milk would help her sleep. Slipping into some shorts and throwing a dressing gown around her, Holly crept out of the room and padded down the stairs to the kitchen. The clock was pointing to half one as Holly poured herself a mug of warm milk.

As she was climbing back up the stairs, Holly noticed light coming from a door that was left ajar. Curious, Holly quietly made her way over and gently pushed it open. Inside sat in front of a desk, his bronze curls tousled from sleep, Hamish was bent over writing something. His pyjama trousers were a few size too small, and Holly could see his ankles.

Holly coughed, causing him to nearly jump in his chair.

“Oh hey, Holly,” he said catching his breath. “Trouble sleepin’?”

“Yeah,” she said. “You?”

“I was jus’ writin’ a letter,” he replied.

“A letter?”

Hamish sighed. “Iolo and I’ve been writin’ to each other over this summer.”

“Explains why you’ve left us for the tent a few times now,” Holly teased. “Why didn’t you tell me you two were writing?”

“I dunno,” Hamish said, looking down. “Kinda wanted to see how things played out I guess.”

“And?”

“Pretty good so far, I think he likes me,” Hamish admitted, his cheeks reddening.

“But what about ye?” Holly asked as she perched herself on a chest by the door, slowly closing the door for some privacy.

“Honestly, I don’t know,” he sighed. “I’m still kinda figurin’ myself, he’s really nice an’ stuff. Talkin’ to him is easy, not like talkin’ to you guys isn’t, but he’s been, out, for a while so he’s already been through this stuff before.”

Holly chuckled. “I’d say it sounds like you like him back.”

“Aye, guess ye could say that,” Hamish blushed. “But what about you Hols? Anyone on yer radar?”

Holly thought for a minute, she hadn’t given the question any serious thought since the third task before summer. Thinking about it brought flashbacks of the time Mrs Weasley had sat her and Ronnie down for “a chat”, Holly couldn’t recall a time when her friend’s ears had been more red.

She remembered thinking Diggory, the Hufflepuff Quidditch captain two years ago, was fairly attractive. But he had left Hogwarts already, never mind that he was a few years older than her. Of the boys in her year, no one really had caught her eye; Dean Thomas had always been nice to her, Seamus Finnegan could be funny at times, Neville was as sweet as anything, and she hardly knew the other boys outside of a classroom.

“No,” she replied slowly.

“Really? C’mon Hols, there must be someone,” Hamish nudged her gently. “What about Cles?”

“Ew- what no, c’mon Hamish, he’s like a brother to me,” Holly slapped Hamish on the shoulder.

“I’m just sayin’,” he raised in hands. “Maybe that special person is right under yer nose.”

Holly stopped herself short of replying, it was a possibility, her thoughts rarely turned to herself of late. She scoffed at the idea of it being Heracles, that would be too much. Holly felt a surge of jealousy for Hamish and Iolo.

“Maybe there’ll be something this year, I’ll let you get back to your letter,” she said abruptly. “I need to get some sleep.”

Holly shut the door before Hamish could answer, walking quickly back to the room. She brushed off the feeling as she left, it was just jealousy, nothing more.


	2. Ronnie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Given how far ahead I am with chapters, gonna try and see if I can manage this regular posting business.

**Ronnie**

The neon streetlights drained the colour from the leaves of the trees as Ronnie and her friends stood in the small park in London. The sound of cars was distant from them, only the sound of pigeons stirred the heavy summer night air. After a while, there was the familiar clunking of Mad-Eye Moody who approached them.

“Right, let’s get this done quick before we’re spotted,” he growled curtly. “Read this paper and pass it around,” he said, passing Ronnie a slip of paper.

_The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix is Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place._

Passing the paper to Holly, Ronnie waited until they had all read it, before looking back in front of her. It was as if a house was trying to push its way out from between Numbers Eleven and Thirteen. The Muggles on either side seemed oblivious to the noise and the house rearranged masonry to its liking, before finally propping up its fence.

“Well what are you waiting for?!” Mad-Eye snapped. “Gawping like you’ve never seen a Fidelius before! Get inside while I burn the note.”

They all hurried to follow his instruction, Mrs Williams leading the way out of the park and across the street to the front door. She knocked the brass knocker in the shape of a snake’s head twice. A bustling sound got louder as someone came to answer, before Mum threw open the door and took Mrs Williams in a warm embrace.

“Good to see you, Gwen,” she beamed.

“And Molly,” Mrs Williams replied.

“Come on in, let’s get you settled in,” Mum gestured for them. “Thanks again for looking after Ronnie.”

“It was a pleasure, as always.”

Ronnie couldn’t help but notice that the house, once they were inside, seemed squashed. The corridor felt narrow but tall, the wallpaper in serious need of replacement and the carpet looking like it belonged in another century.

“There’s still a meeting going on, so you’ll have to wait upstairs until dinner,” Mum told them. “Ronnie, Holly, you’ll be sharing a room with Ginny. Heracles, Hamish, the twins will be sharing with you.”

“Thanks mum,” Ronnie mumbled, allowing her mum to throw her arms around her shoulders. This was rather an odd gesture considering she probably still needed them, but who was Ronnie to question the great arms of her mother.

Following Hamish up the stairs, Ronnie stared at the stuffed heads of house-elves adoring the walls between the greasy gas lamps.

This place is completely normal, she told herself sarcastically.

“Bold as brush,” a voice brought her attention downwards as she reached the landing. “Two Blood Traitors and a Mudblood, what would my mistress think?”

“Hello to you too,” Ronnie snapped in shock.

“That must be the house elf,” Holly muttered.

“Holly Potter,” the elf croaked. “The one who stopped the Dark Lord.”

“Yeah, that’s me,” Holly sighed.

“Let’s just find our room,” Ronnie said, not wishing to talk to the creature.

“Well he seemed nice,” Heracles said once they had found their room. “Certainly giving me second thoughts about S.P.E.W. with that attitude.”

“Ye can say that again Cles,” Hamish snorted.

“It’s probably the family he was raised in,” Ronnie suggested, giving Heracles a pat on the shoulder. “Must have ingrained it in him. Maybe we just avoid giving this one the pitch.”

“I want to know what’s being discussed downstairs,” Holly said abruptly.

“In the meeting?” Ronnie asked.

“Yeah, what is it that’s too important for us?” Holly asked rhetorically, her voice raised slightly. “I mean if it weren’t for me they wouldn’t even know he’s back! But no, they have to keep us ignorant up here! All for “safety”,” Holly made some air quotes as her voice turned into a yell.

Before Ronnie could say anything to calm her friends, two loud cracks made her leap a foot in the air.

“Oh for Merlin’s sake guys!” Ronnie cried as Fred and George plopped themselves down on a bed. “What’s wrong with the stairs?!”

“Nothing, it’s just boring,” Fred replied. “Have you met Kreacher Cles?”

“Who?” Heracles asked.

“Kreacher, the Black family house-elf,” said George. “Right piece of work.”

“Did you say Black?” Holly asked.

“That we did,” Fred answered. “This house belongs to your godmother Holly.”

“Speaking of you Holly, we couldn’t help but hear your melodic voice,” George said.

“We simply had to investigate, didn’t we George old pal,” Fred continued.

“That we did, Freddy ma boi,” George grinned.

“Don’t bottle it up, Holly.”

“Let it all out, healthier that way.”

“However, we have a solution,” Fred smiled, bringing out what looked like a small plastic ear on a piece of red string.

“Extendable Ears,” George explained. “Let’s you eavesdrop on conversations without being noticed.”

Several minutes later, and they were standing on the landing overlooking the hallway that led to the dining room, one end of an Extendable Ear in Fred’s hand. The other end was hanging a few inches from the floor close to the door.

“He’s getting stronger by the minute, we should act now,” Sirius’s voice said in exasperation.

“Bearing in mind we’ve no idea what he wants once he has it,” Remus’s voice countered gently.

“Sirius, while I share sentiments, we have no idea where Voldemort is nor any specifics,” Dumbledore’s voice said. “Severus is doing his best, but we know his base is not static.”

“Snape?!” Ronnie and Holly mouthed in unison. George just shrugged.

“We should move on to the other order of business, this topic is not up for discussion,” said McGonagall’s voice.

However, what that next order of business was remained a mystery, as Crookshanks decided that it would be the perfect moment to eat the Extendable Ear.

“Bloody cat,” Ronnie muttered, receiving a reproving look from Heracles. “What? We in the middle of finding out what’s going on and it ruins our fun.”

“Pretty good though eh?” Fred asked them, gesturing to the end of the Extendable Ear.

“Until jus’ now, aye,” Hamish conceded with a nod.

They returned to the room, Fred and George going back up to theirs, flopping down on beds.

“Where’s Ginny?” Asked Holly.

“I believe she’s visiting a friend,” Heracles replied. “I overheard Mr Weasley talking about it before.”

“I’m bored,” Ronnie said to no one in particular.

“Fancy explorin’ the house?” Hamish asked the room.

“Yeah sure,” Holly replied.

“Suppose it couldn’t hurt,” added Heracles.

However before any of them could even decide on a direction to take, they heard Mum’s voice calling them down for dinner. As they descended the stairs, Ronnie recognised some of the people making their way to the door. Dedalus Diddle and Professor McGonagall were taking their coats from the hanger by the door.

“Are you won’t stay for dinner?” Mum asked Professor Dumbledore.

“I’m afraid I can’t Molly, much as I do enjoy your excellent cooking, I am loathe to impose myself on you and on the conversation of Holly and her friends,” Dumbledore answered.

“I’ll stay if that’s alright Molly,” a voice belonging to a witch with bubblegum-pink hair said tentatively.

“Yes, it’s fine Tonks,” Mum replied in a voice Ronnie recognised as one expressing her annoyance at something.

“Kingsley, will you be joining us?” Dad asked a tall man dressed in purple Auror robes.

“Sadly not Arthur,” he replied in a deep voice. “I’m needed back at the Ministry, best not make anyone suspicious.”

Eventually, they managed to sit around the table in the dining room. They were joined by Sirius, Remus, Tonks and Mad-Eye, who had brought his own food.

“So how have the holidays been?” Sirius asked after Fred and George had been assigned washing up duty. “Better than mine I hope,” she gave Holly a nudge.

“Pretty good yeah I guess,” Holly replied.

“Australia was so cool,” Ronnie said happily.

“I’m guessing your summer was less exciting than ours,” Heracles said with sympathy.

“It’s hard to find excitement when I’m cooped up in my own home,” Sirius admitted bitterly. “Letting the Order use this place as a safe house is about as much as I’m able to do.”

“Unfortunately, Dumbledore doesn’t believe it safe for Sirius to take an active role in things with the Ministry still after her,” Remus explained.

“What’s happening with the Ministry?” Ronnie asked.

“Well as you might have noticed, Fudge doesn’t believe that Voldemort has returned,” Remus continued. “Fear has crippled his mind, so much so that he’s acting rashly.”

Ronnie glanced the faces of Remus, Sirius, Mad-Eye and her parents, they were grim.

“I’m not sure I’m comfortable with where this conversation is going, Remus,” Mum said warningly.

“They’ll have to deal with this at Hogwarts Molly,” Mad-Eye growled. “They’ll find out soon enough.”

“They ought to know something,” Remus nodded.

“Like what?” Holly asked.

“What you have to understand Holly, is that the last time Voldemort was in power, he cast a big shadow over life,” said Remus, putting both hands on the table. “Most people would rather not believe that he has returned because that threatens everything.”

“But surely as Minister, he’s supposed to keep people safe,” Heracles argued. “Why can’t he just accept the truth?”

“Because fear warps the mind,” Dad answered. “What it means is that Fudge is using all of his influence to deflect attention from what’s really going on. It’s probably easier to explain with a copy of the Prophet.”

Sirius leaned backwards to grab a copy from the counter, pushing it across the table to where Holly was sat. Ronnie leaned over Holly’s shoulder, pushing her friend’s red hair out of her nose to get a good look at the headline.

_Dumbledore: Daft or Dangerous?_

Underneath the headline, an image of the headmaster had been annotated with spirals and conked brains.

“He’s been targeting you as well, Holly,” Sirius added.

“If he suspects anyone of being with Dumbledore,” Dad sighed. “Well, let’s just say I can’t lose my job.”

Ronnie winced, she knew her dad’s work wasn’t very respected as it was.

“Thankfully, Mad-Eye still has contacts in the Auror Office, and we’ve managed to find individuals who believe your story,” Remus said.

“Like me,” said the bubble-gum-pink-haired witch. “I’m Tonks, by the way,” she said, reaching over to shake Ronnie’s hand and knocking over a water jug. “I’m so sorry Molly, sorry Sirius.”

Sirius was too busy chuckling to be bothered however, and waved off her apologies.

“I’m on the case looking for Sirius actually,” she continued. “Kingsley and I keep coming up with plausible-sounding leads to throw the Ministry off the scent.”

“Cool,” said Ronnie, taking a liking to the punky witch.

“Boys!” Her mum’s shout interrupted the conversation briefly. Fred and George had enchanted the plates to wash themselves, something looked like it could wrong at any moment. She left the table to supervise them more closely.

Hamish snorted, his turquoise eyes mirthful. “Yer brothers are hilarious sometimes ye know?” He asked Ronnie.

Sirius looked furtively as she lowered her voice. “Now Molly’s occupied, wanna hear the interesting stuff?”

Ronnie nodded eagerly with her friends.

“The last time Voldemort was powerful, he had huge numbers at his command,” Sirius carried on. “Not just people, but trolls, giants and all manner of dark creatures by his side.”

“Sirius,” Remus warned.

She continued regardless. “We’re trying to do that first, something we failed to do in the first war.”

“Like an army?” Ronnie asked.

“That’s a decent word for it,” Sirius shrugged, tugged her black hair behind her ears. “But of course, gathering forces isn’t all he’s interested in.”

“We believe Voldemort may be after something,” said Tonks darkly, her hair turning a shade of purple.

“Something he didn’t have last time,” Sirius added.

“You mean, like some sort of weapon?” Holly asked.

“Absolutely not,” Mum’s voice cut across the discussion. “At this rate you might as well induct them into the order.”

“Good, I want to fight,” Holly said angrily, her green eyes flashing.

“There you go, Molly,” Sirius sat back in her chair.

“If Holly’s allowed to join, we should be too,” Fred and George protested from the sink.

“You too have done enough tonight,” Mum shot back. “To your room.”

The pair trudged off, patting Ronnie on the shoulder as they left.

)(

“Where’s Priscilla, by the way?” Hamish asked back in the room.

They were all spread out, Heracles reading a book on the far bed, Hamish watching Holly and Ronnie play chess. Ginny, having only got back after dinner, was unpacking some of her things.

“Blimey, I forgot Mum didn’t tell,” Ronnie looked up, embarrassed she hadn’t mentioned it before. “Then again, I’m not surprised.”

“She’s being a complete prat,” Ginny slammed shut her trunk. “Couple days after you lot left for Hamish’s, came home arguing with Dad, said she’d had enough of being held back by Dad at work, said we were all crazy for believing Holly.”

“I got a letter while we were at yours,” Ronnie told Hamish. “Apparently they’ve been in a right state, Priscilla packed everything up and went to live with a friend. She’s working directly for Fudge now.”

“What a- Holly started.

“Git,” Ronnie and Ginny finished.

)(

They didn’t learn much more about the Order of the Phoenix after that. Ronnie’s mum made sure of that by staying in the same room as Sirius or Remus when they were with Holly. She had also begun a crusade against what she called the “squalor” of the house, and “coincidentally” roped them in to the cleaning efforts. Instead of finding out what was going on, Ronnie and her friends spent the mornings replacing wallpaper or scrubbing floorboards without magic.

“It’ll make sure you appreciate it when you come of age,” she reprimanded Ronnie when she had moaned at this.

They had finally finished the living room after three days, some of the items Sirius had said she didn’t want had been more than a bit reluctant about being thrown in the skip.

“Right, today I think we’ll get a start on the drawing room,” Mum said inspecting her list. “Ronnie, Hamish and Sirius it’d be great if you did that. Sirius I’m sure there’s more than a few things you’d like to chuck, but it’s best be safe.”

“Of course Molly,” Sirius said firmly, rolling her eyes at Ronnie once her mum’s eyes went back to the list.

“I’ve left bags at the top of the stairs for you,” said Mum. “Hopefully it won’t take as long to sort through this time.”

Sirius led the way to the drawing room, grabbing the bags on the way.

“It’s not that I don’t appreciate the need to clear out this house,” she said as they entered the room. “I just wish she’d let me take the lead on something.”

“That’s my mum for you,” Ronnie said ruefully.

“At least she’s lettin’ ye decide what gets kept,” said Hamish.

“True,” Sirius shrugged. “C’mon, let’s get this over with. If it looks suspicious, my parents were into the dark side of magic so it’s best to leave it to me, but most of this stuff is junk. So just put all the books in this bag and the other junk in this one,” she plopped two bags by the door.

Several times in their clearing, Kreacher would come in a nick things from the pile, muttering things about family heirlooms and how Sirius’s mother would hate what was happening to her house.

“You guys have been lucky Tonks hasn’t woken up my mother’s portrait,” Sirius chuckled. “Makes a right racket screaming those things Kreacher mutters.”

“Why don’t you take it down?” Ronnie asked as she extricated her finger from a rather peckish book.

“She must’ve had the back of the painting charmed with something,” Sirius grunted as she battled with the drawers under a bookcase. “We haven’t had any luck taking it down, so I’m thinking of just removing the wall it’s attached to.”

After a while of clearing the shelves that encompassed the room, they were joined by Holly, Heracles and Ginny.

“Ginny found a boggart in the closet, so Mrs Weasley said she’d take care of it,” Holly explained. “Are we just throwing everything into the bags?”

“I don’t wanna keep any of this,” Sirius nodded.

“Cool,” Ginny grinned.

“This reminds me of the old days, when I used to help people move out of their houses with James and Remus,” Sirius said, taking a step back to get a view of how much was left to go.

“You used to help people move homes?” Ronnie asked incredulously, it was hard to picture the Sirius she knew with one paid to help people move furniture.

“Well, I say help, we did pocket more than a few things we thought were valuable,” Sirius admitted with a snort, prompting laughter from the room.

“Sirius, you are a terrible role model,” Heracles shook his head.

“What happened if you were caught?” Holly asked.

Sirius paused for a moment. “Well before we could apparate, we used to run a lot. The galleons were made it worth it though.”

“You always have the best stories, Sirius,” Ronnie laughed.

“I think, it was this one time helping a Mr Boylebrubby move out of London,” Sirius’s eyes glinted mischievously. “James and I thought it would be funny if we just put all the furniture in the wrong rooms, beds in kitchens, sofas in bedrooms, that sort of thing. When he found out he chased us nearly all the way down to Land’s End until he fell into a bog. We managed to lose him after that.”

The room was left in a fit of giggles at the thought of Mr Boylebrubby chasing the pair.

A scream interrupted their mirth, it had come from downstairs. Holly was first to the door, Ronnie and Sirius hot on her heels, they went down the stairs three at a time. Sitting on the floor, surrounded by bags, Mum was sobbing. In front of her, the closet was open, and on the floor-

“ _Ridikulus!”_ She cried, and the shape turned into Holly, dead and eyes glassy.

Only Holly was standing next to her. Another failed Ridikulus, and the body had turned into Ginny; Ronnie blocked her sister from getting near the doorway.

 _“Ridikulus, Ridikulus, Ridikulus!”_ Dead Ronnie, Priscilla and Dad popped in quick succession. “Oh this is hopeless,” Mum sobbed. Broken from her trance, Ronnie rushed forwards with Sirius.

“Molly, get out of its range, I’ll get it back into the closet,” Sirius barked, giving Ronnie her trembling mother. _“Ridikulus!”_ The closet closed with a snap and a squelch as Sirius locked it shut.

“Oh thank Merlin you came,” Mum said through heavy breaths. “I-I don’t think I would have managed at all.”

“We’ll get Mad-Eye to have a look at it when he’s free,” said Sirius firmly. “We can leave this room for the time being.”

“Yes, yes you’re right,” Mum nodded, giving Ronnie a squeeze.

“Why don’t I make you some tea Mrs Weasley?” Holly suggested.

“Yeah, we’ve nearly finished clearing the drawing room, I think we could all do with a break,” Sirius smiled.

)(

After dinner that night, Ronnie, Ginny and Holly were in their room playing a casual game of Gobstones. There was a knock at the door and Sirius slipped inside, plunking herself beside Holly on the bed.

“Hope you don’t mind if I join you,” she said. “As much as I enjoy giving Fred and George some pointers, the questions get tiring after a while.”

Ronnie snorted. “Yeah, sometimes I feel sorry for mum.”

“Talk about a hard time this afternoon,” Sirius nodded. “Still, thought I’d spend some time with my favourite goddaughter and her friends. Being in a room of boys isn’t quite the same when they know you’re there.”

“Erm, should I ask?” Ginny asked, her ears reddening.

Sirius paused. “In my youth, I may or may not have sneaked into the boys’ dorms at Hogwarts,” she admitted. “Mostly it was so I could spend more time planning hijinks with James and Remus if the common room was too crowded,” she added as explanation.

“And the rest of the time?” Holly asked, eyebrows raised as she brushed her green streak from her eyes.

Sirius’s mouth opened and closed for a moment.

“Ok, you got me, the rest of the time was to pull a prank on Remus,” she answered. “Used to scare the bejeezus out of him when he went to bed.”

Ronnie and Holly giggled at the thought.

“And maybe sometimes, for other reasons,” she continued with a wink. “I think it’s fair to say my bare back seen’s plenty of Hogwarts broom cupboards, alcoves-”

“You know what, I think we should play another game,” Ronnie said loudly, her face burning.

Sirius barked with laughter. “Too much?” She asked with a mischievous glint in her eye.

“I think we should talk about something else,” Holly came to her rescue.


	3. The President

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short one this week I'm afraid. Ironically, though it was written a while back, this does seem to reflect my currently restricted free time :( the struggle is real.

**Quentin**

Quentin sighed heavily as he sat in the conference chamber. Another day of formalities on his British trip, and only after 2 days was he able to get the promised private talk. He was having trouble understanding how one bilateral partnership could so much more difficult than multilateral agreements like the Statute.

“Mr President,” Fudge said as he sat opposite. “Always a pleasure to have a fellow leader visit.”

“You can call me Quentin,” Quentin told him.

“Well Quentin, as I said it’s always a pleasure to welcome visitors,” Fudge continued, his voice laden with diplomacy. “I’m terribly sorry about all those formalities, tradition dictates I’m afraid.”

“Mr Fudge, Cornelius,” he said tersely. “The reporters are gone, so let’s cut to the chase about why I’m here.”

Fudge smiled blandly. “But of course,” he said, adjusting his green bowler hat in the chair beside him. “The British Ministry remains fully supportive of our shared goal, it won’t be a day too soon that we catch this monster.”

“That’s good to hear,” Quentin nodded. “MACUSA believes countering this threat should be a priority for the International Confederacy: without global stability, my government’s hopes of implementing the changes for which we were elected could be severely curtailed.”

“A sentiment that is mutual between us,” Fudge affirmed. “Which is why we are more than prepared to contribute our own in whatever capacity is most suitable.”

“Additionally, we were hoping,” Quentin paused for a moment, hoping was the best thing they could do considering Fudge’s obstinacy. “That your ministry would end its hunt for Sirius Black and take the threat of a returned You-Know-Who seriously.”

“I’m afraid on that I must disagree,” Fudge snapped. “Black is a known mass murderer who could kill many more, and there is no evidence that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has returned. He died fourteen years ago.”

“Minister,” Quentin said reproachfully. “With all due respect, there is evidence. Sightings of Black have dropped to nil, your own Aurors have admitted it, yet disappearances, a hallmark of the last war, continue. All the most respected members of the British magical community believe the word of Holly Potter.”

“Mr President, if you continue down this train of conspiracy, then I am afraid our partnership may come to an end,” Fudge snarled, a hand snatching his bowler hat from the table.

“I am trying to prevent you becoming a pariah of your own making, heed the words of Albus Dumbledore! Don’t let Britain fall back into anarchy!” Quentin’s voice was raised as he tried to reason with Fudge.

“Foreign interference in our affairs is a breach of international decorum!” Fudge nearly shouted as he stood abruptly, his bowler finding is way into his head. “We will support your initiative only so long as the wild tales of a schoolgirl are kept out of serious work!”

“Then there’s nothing more I can do for you,” said Quentin as he stood, exchanging a cursory handshake with Fudge, who quickly left the room.

Quentin sighed, wondering he had agreed to this farce of a visit if his counterpart refused to see look at the facts staring him in the face. Then again, it had taken a meeting with Albus Dumbledore to convince Quentin of the facts. The Warlock’s trust in the word of a young girl had seemed misplaced until Quentin had listened to Dumbledore’s accounts of what she had done.


	4. Hamish

**Hamish**

The train ride to Hogwarts was uneventful: Ronnie and Hamish talked excitedly about what they expected from the new year’s Quidditch league, Heracles stroked Crookshanks as he read a new book, and Holly read her battered copy of The Hobbit. After a while, Hamish decided to find Iolo.

“I’ll be gone for a wee bit,” he told the compartment as he shut the door. Shaking his head wryly, he set off down the carriage in search of Iolo.

He passed several compartments, glancing inside to see if Iolo was there.

“Hamish, over here.”

He jolted at the voice, turning around to see Iolo standing outside a compartment. His hair was shorter than it had been last year, but the grin had the same mischievous twitch.

“H-hey, how’ve ye been?” Hamish asked as he walked up to him.

“Not too bad, how about yourself?”

“Pretty good, yer las’ letter was nice,” Hamish replied, swallowing a little louder than he would have liked.

Iolo chuckled, and Hamish’s stomach decided the moment would be perfect for an impression of a pancake flip. He took Hamish’s hand and led him into the Ravenclaw’s compartment.

“Everyone, this is Hamish,” Iolo introduced him to the compartment.

“Er, hi,” said Hamish, offering a small wave.

“Hello,” a brunette smiled, moving to the side so they could sit. “I’m Beth.”

“Nice to meet ye,” Hamish said nervously.

“Don’t you hang out with Holly Potter?” Hamish look up at the question from a brown-haired boy.

“Yeah tha’s righ’,” he nodded. “Aren’t ye Terry Boot?”

“So, you’ve heard of me,” Terry said, puffing his chest out a little.

“Well, we’re both in Transfiguration,” Hamish explained slowly.

“Hamish, tell us a little about yourself,” said Beth quickly. “We only get so much from Iolo.”

“Oh, come on,” Iolo laughed. “I’ve told you a lot,” he said, glancing at Hamish’s suddenly pale face. “All good things obviously,” he pecked Hamish on the cheek, sending a flutter down his spine.

)(

“First years here,” A different voice greeted them as they stepped onto the platform, Hagrid’s large form was nowhere to be seen.

“Where’s Hagrid?” Ronnie asked, tying her ginger locks into a ponytail.

“Not to jump to conclusions,” Heracles suggested, brown eyes scanning the crowd around them. “But he might be on Order business.”

Holly tucked her green streak behind her ear as she looked around. “Dumbledore’ll know,” she said confidently. “He should tell us before the feast.”

“Aye, let’s get a carriage before we have to walk,” Hamish said as he tied his red Gryffindor jumper around his waist. They arrived outside the station as the last carriage was trundling off, a sad Iolo waving from the window. “I guess we’ll have to walk then,” Hamish sighed, doing his best to hide the blush from his cheeks.

“Hamish was that Iolo Vaistken waving to you?” Heracles asked innocently.

“Er, yeah,” he said nervously.

“Might I be so bold as to deduce that he is the person you were writing to this summer?”

“How did ye…” Hamish trailed off, Heracles simply tapped his nose knowingly.

“Hamish is going out with someone?” Ronnie asked abruptly. “Who?”

His mouth opened and closed like a fish, he didn’t know what to do, they hadn’t discussed when they would go public with it. Hamish looked over to Holly, whose emerald eyes gazed back confidently, she gave him a meaningful look.

He sighed. “Yeah we’re a thing.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Ronnie asked sharply. “Does this mean you’re, you know?”

“I’d wager precisely those two questions,” said Heracles, giving Ronnie a sharp nudge in the ribs. “Hamish, what Ronnie was trying to say is that we appreciate that you told us, and this doesn’t and won’t affect our friendship; though I’m guessing Holly already knew?”

Hamish nodded. “Yeah, I told her after the Yule Ball.”

“Hamish swore me not to tell anyone,” Holly said, putting an arm around his shoulders. “It wasn’t my place to tell besides. Sirius knew someone like Hamish, who told someone; the next day all of Hogwarts knew.”

“Ye get the picture,” Hamish interrupted Holly before she could go further.

“Don’t worry Hamish,” said Ronnie as she put her own hand on his shoulder. “The secret is safe with us.”

Heracles joined Ronnie.

“All we want are details of what happens,” Holly joked.

“Gotta keep up to provide support,” Heracles explained matter-of-factly.

“And if he hurts you, lemme know and I’ll end him,” Ronnie said fiercely.

“Well ye don’t need to go that far-”

The group hug caught him off guard, but Hamish allowed himself to enjoy the friendship. As they pulled apart, Hamish looked around at the empty train station.

“We should go, before we’re late,” he said. “Anyone see a carriage?”

“This one?” Holly asked tentatively. “With the things, pulling it.”

They all turned, to see Holly standing in front of a carriage, staring at the thin air in front of it.

“What things?” Heracles asked as they approached.

“The things pulling the carriage, can’t you see them?” Holly asked perplexed.

“Nothing’s pulling the carriage Holly, it’s pulling itself, like always,” said Ronnie.

“Thestrals,” said Hamish, confident he was right.

“What?” Holly asked, her eyes still fixed on a point in front of her.

“Thestrals can only be seen by those who have seen death, like Holly,” he explained. “To everyone else, they’re invisible.”

“Are you gonna be helping Hagrid plan lessons when he comes back?” Ronnie asked.

Hamish shrugged.

“I do hope so,” a dreamy voice floated over to them. “I didn’t find his lessons very good before you started helping him.”

Hamish nearly leapt out of his skin at the voice. A blonde girl was sitting in the carriage, she peered at them with silvery eyes that seemed a world away, but that Hamish couldn’t help but feel were staring into his soul.

“You’re not going mad, you’re just as sane as I am,” she said dreamily to Holly.

“Everyone, this is Luna Lovegood,” said Holly as she led them into the carriage. “Luna, these are my friends Ronnie, Heracles and Hamish.”

“You know each other?!” Ronnie asked incredulously.

“We met during in my third year, Luna was sleepwalking,” Holly explained as the carriage got moving. “Are you still in contact with that girl?”

“No, not anymore,” said Luna, her eyes clearing slightly. “She didn’t like the present I gave her to say thanks.”

Holly glanced at Hamish pointedly.

)(

“Before tonight’s feast fills our minds with ideas of warm beds and crackling fires, may I extend a warm hand of welcome to our new additions? I hope you will all enjoy yourselves this year,” said Professor Dumbledore. “And a warm welcome to our old hands. I have a few announcements for this year, concerning this year’s teaching. As many will have noticed, Professor Hagrid is not with us for reasons of health, therefore his post will be filled by Professor Stubboard. This year’s Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher is Professor Umbridge. I’m sure you’ll join me in welcoming them both and wishing them good luck.”

Before Professor Dumbledore could say much more however, the professor that was not Stubboard coughed slightly. Professor Dumbledore glanced over his shoulder before continuing.

“In other news-”

The professor coughed again, more insistently. He stood from his seat and joined Professor Dumbledore at the front.

“Thank you, professor, for those kind words of welcome,” he said in a sickly, sweet voice. The man was short, plump, and dressed in a three-piece blue velvet suit. He reminded Hamish of a fat toad, his eyes beady and mouth just a little too wide. “It is indeed an honour, a privilege to stand before all of you. Young minds are the future of our society, ready to be filled with knowledge.

“The Ministry believes that education is a vital step for any young witch or wizard. While every new headmaster of this historic school has brought something new,” he nodded to Professor Dumbledore, who bowed his head slightly. “New traditions are made, and new customs adopted, but the core of Hogwarts remains. Progress for the sake of progress must be discouraged, let us learn from those who came before, and prune practices that ought to be prohibited,” he finished his speech with a chuckle Hamish couldn’t help but feel was insincere.

“Thank you for that, Professor Umbridge, it was most illuminating,” said Professor Dumbledore as he resumed his announcements.

“I nearly fell asleep during his waffle,” Holly snorted quietly.

“Didn’t you hear what he said?” Heracles asked.

“No.”

“It means the Ministry is interfering in Hogwarts,” said Heracles, his mouth a thin line.

“I think I know who it is,” Ronnie whispered. “Desquin Umbridge, my dad’s mentioned him before. Really ambitious undersecretary to the minister, but apparently you keep hearing weird rumours from his office.”

“Can’t mean anything good,” said Hamish, glancing towards Iolo who seemed preoccupied listening to Professor Dumbledore. “I don’t think he’ll be getting on with a lot of us in Gryffindor,” he said, glancing at Fred and George, before giving Holly a look. Her green eyes were distracted, brows furrowed in thought.

After what seemed an age, food appeared on the table. Hamish doled out some rice, passing his plate over so Neville could put some curry on it.

“Thanks Nev, ye had a good summer?”

“Not too bad actually,” Neville smiled as he served Ronnie. “My nan bought me a Mimbulus Mimbletonia for my birthday.”

“Is that the one that shoots pus when ye attack it?”

“Yeah it is. Maybe I’ll show you when we go to the common room,” he pointed next to him on the bench; a bulbous green blob sat next to him, it seemed to throb slightly at being pointed at. “I don’t think people would appreciate the mess here.”

“Ye don’t have to show me Nev,” Hamish snorted. “I believe ye already.”

As the meal came to an end, the desserts vanished themselves from the table.

“Ronnie, we need to show the first years the way,” Heracles said. “First years, this way.”

“Oh c’mon,” Ronnie groaned.

“Go on Ronnie, it’s only once,” Hamish said as he nudged her from her seat.

“Yeah, first years with me,” she said, giving Hamish a glare.

Heracles and Ronnie led the gaggle of chattering first years away, leaving Hamish with Holly and Neville.

“C’mon, if we go fast enough we can get ahead of the crowd,” Hamish urged. “Don’t need Nev’s plant making a mess because some idiot poked it.”

“Even faster if we take my shortcuts,” Holly nodded.

Hamish joined Neville in following the red hair out of the hall. Popping out from the hidden alcove beside the rusty knight on the ninth floor, they rejoined Ronnie and Heracles, who seemed to have gotten into the spirit of the tour.

“Oh, come on guys, we’re trying to do a short tour here,” Ronnie moaned.

“Well ye’ll jus’ have to include some of the secret passages, they’re Gryffindors anyway,” said Hamish.

“We’ll see you in the common room, we’re trying to keep Nev’s plant safe,” Holly shouted over shoulder as she led them through the Greek tapestry.

The common room was quiet when they arrived, Holly slumping into her usual spot on the sofa in front of the fireplace. Hamish flopped down beside her.

“I think I’m going to bed, thanks for helping me keep Mimble safe,” said Neville.

“Mimble?” Holly asked.

“My Mimbulus Mimbletonia,” he replied, pointing to the plant cradled in his arms. “I just wanted to say, me and my nan think what the Prophet’s writing is a load of bollocks, we believe you Holly.”

“Oh right,” said Holly, looking him in the eye from her slumping place. “Thanks, Neville.”

“Night,” he said as he left.

“Night,” Hamish and Holly said together.

Eventually, Ronnie and Heracles appeared at the head of the train of first years.

“Welcome to the common room,” Heracles told them. “This is where a lot of us Gryffindors relax in the evenings after dinner, there are games in the bookcase over there,” he pointed across from where Hamish and Holly were sat. “the boys’ dormitories are up those stairs on the left, the year is on the door.”

“Girls are on the right,” Ronnie indicated. “Make sure you don’t mix up the two.”

“It’s not the best place to do homework, so I’d recommend the library which I can show people tomorrow,” said Heracles.

“And these are the resident sofa slumpers of Gryffindor,” Ronnie gestured to Hamish and Holly.

“Hey,” Hamish protested. “We’re tired.”

“Sadly, they won’t fielding autographs this week,” Ronnie cackled.

“You can stay down here for a while, but I’d get some rest so you’ve got energy for classes tomorrow,” Heracles suggested.

The first years seemed to agree with him, bounding up the stairs and leaving the common room in silence. Once they had left, Ronnie and Heracles joined Hamish and Holly in slumping in the armchairs beside the sofa.

“Were we ever that small?” Ronnie asked with a sigh.

They laughed tiredly as Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan led the arrival of the rest of Gryffindor.

“Hey Seamus, good holiday?” Hamish asked as he passed.

“Me mam didn’t want me to come back this year,” he replied, a hint of suspicion in his voice.

“What, why not?” Holly asked incredulously.

“Lemme see, because o’ you,” said Seamus. “The Prophet’s bin sayin’ some pretty bad things about you.”

“Then I guess you should just believe the Prophet like your stupid mother then,” Holly snarled as she leapt to her feet, green eyes blazing.

“Don’t you dare bring me mother into this!” Seamus shot back.

“I’ll have a go at anyone who calls me a liar!” Holly snapped, storming off to the girls’ dorms.

“What are you lookin’ at me for?” Seamus stepped away from the sofas. “She’s crazy, I’m tellin’ ya.”

“So, anyone for Exploding Snap?” Fred asked from the corner.

The common room broke back into its usual groups as he released the tension, Seamus re-joining Dean and Parvati Patil.

“I think I’m gonna go to bed,” said Hamish, groaning as he stood.

“Yeah me too,” said Ronnie, scrambling after Holly.

“Hey, Hamish,” he cut short by Angelina Johnson. “Has Holly already left?”

“Ye jus’ missed her,” he replied.

She rolled her eyes. “Typical. Can you make sure she knows about try-outs this Saturday?”

“Yeah sure thing,” he answered. “Congrats on being captain by the way.”

“Thanks.”

He trudged up to the dorms, flopping onto his bed before he could take off his shoes.


	5. Heracles

**Heracles**

Professor McGonagall handed out their timetables at breakfast, Heracles smiling as he saw what was scheduled on Monday.

“Thanks, professor,” he said as he stuffed it between two notebooks in his bag. “Arithmancy first thing on a Monday and Thursday, brilliant isn’t it, Hamish?”

Hamish yawned. “If I was awake, aye it would be,” he replied after ladling himself some porridge.

“What are all these blank spaces on my timetable?” Ronnie asked.

“Free periods,” Heracles explained.

Holly grinned. “Free time, never had that on a timetable before.”

“It’s for studying,” Heracles shook his head. “You’re supposed to use free periods to get on with all the work we’ll have this year.”

“Whatever,” Ronnie waved her hand. “A free period means free time.”

“Better to get the work done in a free period than on the weekend,” Hamish said, shrugging his shoulders.

After breakfast, Heracles and Hamish got up to go get ready for Arithmancy.

“Gotta feel sorry for the firsties, not knowing the shortcuts yet,” Hamish said as they remerged from the common room. “Making the long trip to breakfast and back ain’t fun.”

 “I believe Ronnie said something about showing them the essential secret passages on the tour,” said Heracles. “Oh, hello Sir Cadogan.”

The knight was in the middle of a jousting tourney with a teddy bear.

“Why hello young sirs, and how are we this fine morn?” He asked, raising his visor, only for it to fall back in place.

“We’re fine, thanks,” said Heracles as they continued down the steps to the fourth floor, the painted knight following as he pushed past tables of card players and circles of dancing children. “Could you remind our friend Ronnie that she needs to show the Gryffindor first years the fastest route between the common room and the Great Hall?”

“But of course, the tall and sweet maiden shall be informed. I swear on my honour as a knight errant,” Sir Cadogan said grandly. “May I lend my services for another quest?”

“No that’s all, thanks,” Heracles said as they arrived on the fourth floor.

“Then may your journey be swift, and your valour strengthened, knowing I, Sir Cadogan, came to your aid.”

Hamish laughed as the painted knight ran off, his armour clanking.

“Ronnie is gonna hate ye for that,” he said as they arrived outside the classroom.

“Probably yes,” said Heracles as they found their seats.

)(

“How was your morning?” Heracles asked as he sat down for lunch.

“Pretty good,” said Ronnie happily. “Had the common room to ourselves for a change.”

“How about yours?” Holly asked, doling out pasta.

“Professor Vector kept going on about how Owls are really important,” said Hamish.

“He’s right,” Heracles said grimly. “But Hamish is right,” he added on seeing his friend’s raised eyebrows. “He did go on a bit.”

“Talking about Owls, are we?” Fred said as he plopped himself down beside Heracles.

“We’ve been there guys, believe us,” George continued as he sat by Hamish.

“See, it’s all relative,” said Fred.

“Next year you’ll be told Newts are the most important thing ever.”

“Didn’t you two scrape by in your Owls?” Heracles asked slyly.

“You’re not wrong Cles ma’boy,” Fred grinned.

“But Fred and I aren’t cut out for academia,” George said, staring off into the middle-distance.

“We’re made for greater things,” Fred carried on.

“You mean your business idea?” Heracles asked rhetorically.

“That’s for us to know, and you to find out,” George said knowingly.

“But we also came over because Angelina told us Hamish knew when try-outs were,” Fred said, pointedly looking at Hamish.

“Couldn’t she tell ye herself?” He asked. “On Saturday.”

“She was in a rush,” George explained.

“Thank you very muchly,” Fred said as they both left.

)(

_All fifth years are to attend a meeting with their Head of House to discuss career paths. Please find your appointment beside your name._

Heracles read the announcement that had been pinned to the notice board. Pushing past Seamus, he read down the list of names until he found his own. His meeting was that day before dinner.

After classes had finished, Heracles went to Professor McGonagall’s office. It felt strange standing in front of her door without Filch breathing down his neck after the caretaker had caught he and his friends doing something they shouldn’t. His knock at the door was answered as the door swung open, revealing Professor McGonagall sat behind her desk, a stack of parchment by her side.

“Ah, Heracles,” she said as she looked up. “Do come in and take a seat,” she gestured to the chair in front of her desk. The door closed itself as he did so. A second knock on the door prompted Professor McGonagall’s smile to falter slightly. “Come in,” she sighed. The door opened, a haggard-looking Professor Umbridge stood panting, clipboard clutched in his hand.

“Why hello Desquin, may I help you?” Professor McGonagall asked.

“You may indeed, Minerva,” he panted. “As you will no doubt be aware, as Cornelius’s eyes and ears within Hogwarts, it falls to me to monitor career advice.”

Professor McGonagall paused for a moment, seemingly processing the absurdity of the role. “Well I’m sure you’ll be monitoring the career advice being given by every Head of House, take a seat in the back, thank you,” she pointed to a small chair by the door.

Umbridge looked ready to argue but must have seen the look in Professor McGonagall’s eye, and he sat down quickly in the chair.

“Now, Heracles, have you put any thought into what you’d like to do when you’re older?” Professor McGonagall asked, turning back to Heracles.

“It’s difficult to plan too far in advance at this stage, professor,” Heracles replied. “But I’ve been wondering about going into Law.”

Heracles could hear Umbridge scribbling furiously, but he ignored it.

“Well, such a path would entail studying at one of the Magical Colleges,” Professor McGonagall said, leafing through some pamphlets she slid across her desk. “Most departments like their students to have studied History of Magic to Newt level, along with any other subjects you would choose to study for your Newts.”

While Professor McGonagall spoke, Umbridge continued to take notes loudly.

“Though I recommend going through some of the pamphlets I’ve given you and seeing if they are any other courses that might interest you,” she said. “I presume the goal of this route would be working in the Department of Magical Law or International Affairs?”

“Well, I’m not sure right now, but yes I suppose eventually,” said Heracles, picking up the pamphlets.

“Ahem,” said Umbridge.

“Something wrong Desquin?” Professor McGonagall asked.

“Yes, I just noted what the boy said about working in the Ministry,” Umbridge said condescendingly. “The Ministry performs background checks when applicants apply for a job, and I should raise my concern that with the company the boy keeps…”

“Your concerns are noted, Desquin,” Professor McGonagall said, her tone making clear her displeasure at the conversation being interrupted. “But I’m sure that the Ministry will be needing to get its own house in order before judging the friendships of childhood,” she said curtly. “If you have any questions regarding the colleges or course, do not hesitate to ask.”

“Thank you, professor,” said Heracles as he got up to leave.

People were already leaving for dinner when Heracles got back, Holly, Ronnie and Hamish were waiting.

“How was it?” Ronnie asked.

“A bit weird to be honest, I’ll tell you over dinner,” he replied, leading the way out of the portrait hole.


	6. Holly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I was supposed to post this yesterday, but due to a combination of factors I didn't get round to it as I would have liked. To make up for this, I'm posting both chapter 6 and 7.

**Holly**

The door opened, allowing the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs inside. Holly had never felt trepidation before a Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson, but from what Fred and George had told her, it wouldn’t be nearly as interesting as when Remus or the fake Moody had taught it. Holly took her usual seat next to Ronnie as the last of the class came through the door. Like every teacher before him, Umbridge had decorated the room differently.

But whereas previous teachers had put up posters of duelling techniques or dark creatures and their weaknesses, Umbridge had opted for posters with meaningless slogans.

 _“All I have to do is put in the work”_ One said over the image of a beaming man.

 _“Success is up to you,”_ another declared.

“Good morning class,” said Umbridge from the front.

Everyone grunted blearily.

“Oh no, that simply won’t do,” he tutted. “When I say greet people, I expect a clear reply. Let’s try again, when I say good morning, you will reply “good morning Professor Umbridge”. Good morning class.”

“Good morning Professor Umbridge,” they droned out.

“Much better,” he smiled. “Now, as many of your other teachers will already have told you, this year is all about the Ordinary Wizarding Level. These are very important and will determine what you do in life,” he looked at them expectantly. “Well, why hasn’t anyone taken out their book, parchment and quills?”

“Our lessons are normally practical,” said Dean Thomas.

“Right, I see,” Umbridge mused. “Firstly, pupils will raise their hand should they wish to speak,” he said pointedly at Dean. “Additionally, your teaching in this subject has been most irregular, so you will now be following a carefully constructed, Ministry-approved curriculum.”

Heracles raised his hand as they took out their books.

“Yes, is there something the matter Mister…?”

“Granger, yes there is,” said Heracles before ploughing on. “There’s nothing in these textbooks about using the spells.”

Umbridge chuckled. “Well why ever would you want to use spells in my classroom? You will learn about defensive magic in a secure, risk-free environment.”

“Professor Lupin taught practical classes,” Seamus piped up.

“Pupils will raise their hand in my class,” Umbridge reminded him. “In any case, it was very irresponsible of Professor Dumbledore to hire a half-breed like that.”

Ronnie raised her hand. “Professor Moody last year did practical lessons, he might’ve turned out to be a mad Death Eater, but he was still a great teacher. And Professor Lupin was the best teacher we ever had.”

“Enough,” Umbridge said, raising his voice. “As I said before, these lessons have been far too irregular and dangerous for children such as yourselves. From this day forward, you will follow the theoretical syllabus set for you by the Ministry.”

“And how’s theory supposed to prepare us for real life?” Holly asked. She had had enough of listening to the others talk.

“Pupils will raise their hands when they wish speak, is that clear, Miss Potter?”

Holly raised her hand.

“Yes, Miss Potter, what is it?” Umbridge asked as if she hadn’t heard Holly the first time.

“Why aren’t you going to teach us anything practical, professor?”

“Miss Potter, are you a Ministry educator and have you any experience in teaching?” Umbridge’s voice was snide.

Holly shook her head.

Umbridge’s toad-like smile grew wider. “Then I suggest you not to worry your pretty head about it, practical lessons are far too risky for children.”

Holly narrowed her eyes. She didn’t see her friends’ expression of shock as she opened her mouth again.

“If you won’t teach us practically, then it won’t be risk-free will it?” Holly bit back. “Reading theory is hardly gonna prepare us for what’s out there.”

“There is nothing out there, my dear,” he said condescendingly. “These lessons are supposed to help you prepare for your exams and pass them, which is what school is all about, after all,” Umbridge said as he waddled down the row towards her desk.

Hamish raised his hand, freckled face feigning curiosity.

“Yes, what is it?” Umbridge snapped, his toad-like features turning into a scowl.

“It’s Williams, professor,” said Hamish as he brushed his curls off his forehead. “Surely it makes sense to practice spells, seein’ as we have a practical bit in our Defence Owl exam.”

“If you have studied the theory then you should have sufficient knowledge to perform them when the time comes,” Umbridge fumed.

“But what about in real life, professor?” Holly said, her hand raised. She glanced at Heracles, who was shaking his head, his brown eyes shouting that it wasn’t worth the hassle. Holly pressed forward regardless. “What if we’re attacked outside school?”

Turning his attention back to Holly, Umbridge scoffed. “Who do you imagine would want to attack little girls and boys like you?”

“Oh, I dunno, Lord Voldemort?” Holly suggested casually.

Umbridge whipped back to the front and waddled back up to the blackboard.

“Now, let me make one thing very clear,” he said slowly. “You have been told that a certain dark wizard is at large once more. This is a lie.”

“It’s not a lie, I saw him, I fought him!” Holly nearly stood up, a calming hand from Ronnie stopping her from leaping over her desk.

“Detention, Miss Potter,” Umbridge said triumphantly.

“So according to you Terence Higgs dropped dead of his free own will,” Holly shouted.

“Mr Higgs’s death was a tragic accident,” said Umbridge, scribbling a note.

“It was murder!”

“Holly,” Hamish’s voice cut softly over her. Realising she was standing, Holly looked over to him. His turquoise eyes were pleading.

“Take this note to Professor McGonagall, Miss Potter,” said Umbridge with a smile that stretched his toad-like into a grimace. “The rest of us will begin reading chapter one.”

“Yes, professor,” said Holly, reluctantly taking the slip of paper and walking out of the classroom.

Professor McGonagall was marking homework when Holly entered her office.

“Potter, I assume there’s a reason you are before your scheduled careers advice appointment?”

“Professor Umbridge told me to give you this,” she said, putting the slip of parchment down on Professor McGonagall’s seat.

Professor McGonagall’s eyes scanned the parchment, her already thin mouth thinning even further.

“Take a seat Potter,” she said, gesturing to the chair in front of her desk. “And have a biscuit,” she moved the tartan tin to Holly.

“Thanks, professor,” said Holly as she took a custard cream.

“Potter, you are going to have to keep your head down,” Professor McGonagall said earnestly. “While Professor Umbridge is wrong in his view, he is within his right as a teacher to give you a detention.”

“Professor, couldn’t I at least do the detention with you?”

“No, Potter, you cannot,” said Professor McGonagall sharply. “Professor Umbridge does not require reason to be suspicious of my part in the Order. So, you will serve detention with him tonight.”

“Yes, professor,” Holly sighed, bowing her head.

“Potter, you need to be careful,” said Professor McGonagall. “Umbridge is an extension of the Ministry. I know you will want to challenge what she is doing, but you will paint an even bigger target on your back if you do; Umbridge has three goals at Hogwarts, one of which is to enforce Fudge’s line.”

“I don’t understand, professor,” said Holly.

“Think, Potter, think. Who might Fudge want out of the picture?” Professor McGonagall urged. “Now, go back to your classes, this conversation is ended,” she said in a tone brooking no argument.

)(

After dinner, Holly slipped into a pair of jeans and threw on one of her Quidditch jumpers, a Puddlemere United one from Oliver Wood. Heracles had managed to convince Ronnie to get started on her homework when Holly passed back through the common room, he and Hamish were sat across from her completing their own homework.

“For the last time, no, I will not do it for you,” Heracles ran his hands through his bushy, brown hair in exasperation.

“Fine,” Ronnie moaned, tying her orange hair into a ponytail. “But if I get bad marks in this, it’s your fault,” she fixed her blue eyes on him menacingly.

“We’ll read it over after ye’ve written it,” Hamish rubbed his chin as his turquoise eyes scanned a page he was reading. He glanced up as Holly passed. “Good luck with Umbridge,” he said, giving her a thumbs-up.

“Thanks, hopefully won’t be too long,” Holly sighed.

Umbridge’s toad-like smile greeted Holly as she stepped into his office.

“Ah Miss Potter, I was afraid you wouldn’t come,” he leered. “Take a seat,” he gestured to the small chair and table in the corner.

Like the classroom, Umbridge’s office was filled with posters depicting heroic wizards behind inspirational slogans. On his desk were stacks of papers and books, all neatly piled. The small table had a sheet of parchment, and a gold-plated quill.

“You’re going to be writing some lines tonight, Potter,” said Umbridge.

Refusing to give him the satisfaction, Holly did her best to keep her voice neutral as she sat down. “What will I write?”

“I want you to write, “I must not tell lies”. Can you do that for me?” Holly nodded stiffly.

“I don’t have a quill.”

“Well it’s a good thing you’ve got one of my special ones on the table isn’t it?” Umbridge smiled.

“How many lines?”

“Oh, as many as it takes for the message to sink in,” said Umbridge in an unsettling manner. “And don’t worry about ink.”

Reluctantly, Holly picked up the quill and put it to the parchment. As she scratched the parchment, the back of her hand began to itch. Holly didn’t think much of it as she continued to finish the sentence until the itch turned into short, sharp stabs. The line had written was in red letters. Wondering what could be the reason for the pain on her hand, Holly slowly turned over her hand.

There, clear as day, the words _I must not tell lies_ had broken the skin of her hand. Holly let out a small gasp as a trickle of blood dribbled down her hand.

“Is something the matter, Miss Potter?” Umbridge asked from behind his desk.

Looking up, Holly was reminded of why she couldn’t slip.

“Nothing, it’s nothing,” she replied.

With nothing for it, Holly went back to the parchment and started on the next line. Holding back her gasps of pain, she powered through another line, stopping before she began the next. All the time, Holly had the unsettling feeling that Umbridge was watching her. Whenever she glanced up to look at the clock behind his chair, his eyes would be on a piece of work on his desk. Yet after she resumed her writing, she could feel his gaze upon her, making her squirm uncomfortably in her seat.

After what felt like an age, Umbridge came over to Holly and picked up the parchment.

“I think this is enough for one night, don’t you?” He asked, picking up and inspecting her hand in a way that made Holly’s skin crawl. “You may go, Potter.”

Holly didn’t need to be told twice, leaving his office as quickly as she could without running. As soon as she was in the corridor however, she broke into a sprint, slipping through all the secret passages to get back to the common as quickly as possible.

The common was mostly empty when Holly arrived, out of breath, save for Ronnie and Heracles who were sat on their usual sofa by the fire.

“You’re back,” Ronnie leapt up, blue eyes alive with questions.

“It was fine,” said Holly, trying her best to keep her injured hand behind her back.

“If it was fine, then why are you hiding your hand?” Heracles asked, brown eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Sighing, Holly showed the back of her hand to Heracles, prompting he and Ronnie to gasp.

“She made you write that into your own flesh?!” Ronnie asked incredulously. “That’s barbaric!”

“You should tell Professor Dumbledore, Holly,” said Heracles. “He needs to know.”

“He’s probably busy,” Holly dismissed him. “Besides, I don’t want to give Umbridge the satisfaction of getting to me.”

“I dunno, Holly,” said Ronnie, scratching her long nose. “My dad says there are some pretty weird rumours going about this guy. Says he heard that a lot of witches resign after working with him after a while.”

“Just drop it,” Holly said firmly. “Where’s Hamish?”

“I think he’s with his boyfriend,” Heracles replied.

“Oh okay,” said Holly, wondering why she felt hurt that he wasn’t there to hear about her detention. “I’m going to bed.”


	7. Ronnie

**Ronnie**

The first Saturday of the new term rolled by as Ronnie sat almost alone in the library. Cursing herself for not following Heracles’s suggestions to join him and Hamish during her free periods, she trudged her way through a Transfiguration essay. Fred and George hadn’t been joking when they warned her of how quickly homework piled up in fifth year. Alongside the essay for Professor McGonagall, Ronnie had been given work from Snape, reading for Defence Against the Dark Arts, Divination and Astronomy, as well as having to practice a new spell for Charms.

While Ronnie was slaving away on the pile of work, Holly was out on the Quidditch pitch helping Angelina run try-outs for the Gryffindor team. Ronnie would have loved to watch them, but she knew that if it weren’t for them, Holly would be sat across from her.

Her writing was interrupted by the arrival of Heracles, who plopped himself down beside her.

“Come to gloat?” She remarked.

“I thought I’d come and see how you were doing,” he replied, running a hand through his bushy hair. “So yes, in a way, but I also thought you might like some help.”

Ronnie looked up shocked. “Last time I asked you said it was up to me to do all the work.”

“True,” he shrugged. “But Hamish changed my mind a little. So I’m here to offer my notes from Astronomy and Potions, and to invite you to join my study groups.”

“Cles, you’re a lifesaver,” said Ronnie gratefully with a smile as he put a small pile of notes beside her.

“You should thank Hamish for the notes,” Heracles said seriously. “Next time though, use your free periods more wisely.”

“Do you mean coming to your study group things?” Ronnie asked. “Because if it’s another waste of time like making me show the firsties the secret passages to the great hall then I’m not going.”

Ronnie still remembered how Sir Cadogan had embarrassed her in front of the Slytherins, telling her Heracles had said she should show the first years the fastest ways to and from the great hall.

“They’re not as stupid as they sound,” said Heracles. “It’s hard to motivate oneself to do work when one’s alone, but when you’re on a table with people all needing to work it’s much easier.”

Ronnie pondered the idea for a moment. It would mean sitting with people like Zacharias Smith, a Hufflepuff fifth year with an incredible sense of self-importance, but Ronnie’s current situation seemed just as unpleasant as spending time sitting across from him.

“Ok fine I’ll go,” she muttered. “But only because I hate spending my weekend in the library.”

“It’ll be worth it,” Heracles promised, giving her a pat on the shoulder before he stood up. “I’ll see you at dinner.

“Yeah, seeya,” said Ronnie morosely, returning to the essay.

)(

_By order of the Minister for Magic, Desquin Umbridge is hereby appointed Hogwarts High Inquisitor, giving him the authority to inspect teaching and culture at school, and redress grievances wherever necessary._

The notice had been pinned to the common room notice board and outside the great hall when Ronnie and her friends trooped down to breakfast.

“Well this isn’t alarming at all,” Heracles said sarcastically after picking up their bags from the common room.

“I still say he’s gonna have a shock when he tries to inspect Professor McGonagall,” said Ronnie. “I can’t wait to watch.”

As it turned out, they didn’t have long to wait, as Umbridge waddled into Transfiguration after them, whispering a quick word in Professor McGonagall’s ear before taking a seat on the side. Whatever he had said to her caused a flash of displeasure to cross her face before she began the day’s lesson.

“Today we will be continuing on from last week’s lesson, learning to transfigure animals into goblets,” she started, writing the name of the spell on the board. “The spell you will be using is the Ferevertus Charm-”

“Ahem,” Umbridge coughed.

Ignoring the interruption, Professor McGonagall continued the lesson. “Enunciation is essential if you are to cast this spell correctly, so after me,” she said, charming the chalk to write the spell on the blackboard. “Fereverto.”

“Fereverto,” they repeated.

“Ahem,” Umbridge coughed a little louder.

“Now I want you to work with your partners from last week on this,” Professor McGonagall continued regardless. “I will be going around and correcting spell work where necessary.”

“Ahem,” Umbridge tried again.

“Do you require a cough drop, professor?” Professor McGonagall asked Umbridge.

“No, but thank you, Professor McGonagall, I merely had a question about your teaching style,” he answered.

“Then it shall wait until the end of the lesson,” said Professor McGonagall sternly. “You may have noted that I am not used to being so rudely interrupted during my lessons.”

Umbridge’s eyes widened massively, making the impression of a fat toad more impressive. He shook his head and scribbled something on his notepad furiously.

The lesson continued as planned, though Ronnie couldn’t help but feel that Professor McGonagall was pushing them more than she usually would after the exchange with Umbridge. By the end, Ronnie had managed to get her mouse more than halfway into the form of a goblet; it took a little imagination to ignore the whiskers on its brim and the squeaking it periodically emitted, but Professor McGonagall seemed satisfied with her progress, simply telling her to practice over the course of the year to help pass the exam.

“For next week,” said Professor McGonagall after the bell rang. “I want two sides of parchment from each of you on the effects of a former animal on its transfiguration into an inanimate object.”

Ronnie’s shoulders sank, now it seemed certain she would be joining Heracles with his study group.

“We’ll see you after Runes,” said Heracles as they left the classroom.

“Sure, meet you outside the great hall,” Ronnie replied before she and Holly left them to go to their next class. “But not before another exciting lesson with she who lives in the attic.”

“Wish us luck,” Holly called over her shoulder.

“Good luck,” came Hamish’s reply.

Professor Trelawney’s classroom was as stuffy as ever when they entered through the trapdoor. A quick glance with Holly confirmed what Ronnie was thinking, a seat at the back was the best survival strategy.

“Hello children, welcome back to my domain,” Professor Trelawney’s voice drifted lazily over them as they took a seat on the armchairs at the back, Parvati and Lavender Brown came in last and plopped themselves down in the front where they sat in rapt attention. “This is of course your third year with me and is as such the year you are required to sit frivolous OWL exams. Naturally, such arbitrary testing is not suitable for the noble art of divination,” her magnified eyes flashed in annoyance before returning to their usual demeanour. “However, having peered into things that have not yet come to pass (like the Mirror of Galadriel), I have been able to prepare a programme of things on which you will be tested for us to explore this year.”

“You mean based off what was in the last few exams,” Ronnie muttered quietly to Holly, who snorted.

As with most lessons of Divination, Ronnie and Holly spent most of it quietly debating the year’s Quidditch with Dean Thomas, pretending to be studying cards whenever Professor Trelawney came close.

After the lesson, Ronnie followed Holly in rushing down to the great hall where Hamish and Heracles were already waiting.

“How was Divination?” Hamish asked.

“The usual melodramatic nonsense,” replied Ronnie.

“How was Runes?” Holy asked.

“Awkward,” Heracles shifted from one foot to another. “Umbridge sat in on the lesson.”

Ronnie winced

“Yeah, I dunno how Professor Babbling put up with his stupid questions,” Hamish grumbled. “He kept interruptin’ us as we were tryin’ to learn glyph basics.”

“Nevertheless, I’m sure Professor Babbling will be fine,” said Heracles confidently. “Umbridge didn’t stay too long,” he ran a hand through his bushy hair. “Well, I’m going to the library to join the rest of the study group, are you coming, Ronnie?”

Ronnie sighed, she had forgotten about her promise to Heracles. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Please tell me you’re not going, Hamish,” Holly groaned.

“Aye, it’s better than doin’ homework over the weekend,” he replied.

)(

A crowd was gathering outside the great hall when Ronnie, Holly, Hamish and Heracles made their way down for breakfast a week later. Joining the throng as it spilled out into the quad, Ronnie glimpsed the scene at the centre before they found a place to see what has drawing the attention.

Professor Trelawney was standing forlornly beside a trunk as she read a ragged letter. Umbridge stood triumphantly across from her, hands on his hips, his wide mouth stretched into a facsimile of a smile.

“H-hogwarts is m-my h-home,” Professor Trelawney’s voice shook with emotion as she finished reading the letter. “Y-ou c-can’t do this.”

“Actually, as High Inquisitor, it is within my power to dismiss teaching staff if they prove to be inadequate,” Umbridge replied haughtily.

“What’s going on?” Asked Ginny as she nudged herself beside Ronnie.

“I think Professor Trelawney is being sacked,” Holly replied quietly.

The quad was silent but for the whisperings of fellow students and the sighs of a chill wind whipping Ronnie’s hair.

“Merlin, I think it’s got something to do with Umbridge’s inspection in our Divination lesson,” Ginny whispered. “He tried to get Trelawney to predict something.”

Ronnie’s attention was drawn to the other side of the crowd, Professor McGonagall was moving students aside to get into the circle. She quickly covered the ground between her and Professor Trelawney.

“There, there Sybil, it’ll be ok,” Ronnie heard her say as she took Professor Trelawney into a firm embrace.

“Is there something you’d like to say, professor?” Umbridge interrupted them.

“There are several things I’d like to say,” Professor McGonagall shot back.

Ronnie was taken aback; Professor McGonagall had never seemed the type to be on the same side as Professor Trelawney.

“Ah, and pray tell what is going on,” the calm voice of Professor Dumbledore interrupted Ronnie’s thoughts. The headmaster, garbed in pink velvet, strode across the quad to stand between Professor McGonagall and Professor Trelawney, and Umbridge.

“The regrettable termination of a member of your staff, Professor Dumbledore,” Umbridge replied icily. “As High Inquisitor, it is within my power to dismiss teachers whom I find lacking.”

“It is indeed,” said Professor Dumbledore, the usual humour was missing from his voice. “However, you do not have the power to banish them from the school grounds. Such power remains with the headmaster.”

Umbridge’s eyebrows were raised as his grotesque smile faltered. “For now,” he said, before waddling back inside.

“C’mon, let’s get breakfast,” said Hamish, tugging Ronnie’s arm.

“Yeah,” said Ronnie, still stunned by the events she had witnessed.

The rest of the day continued without anything major happening, Ronnie trudging her way through Potions, Charms and Heracles’s study group. She was so preoccupied that it was only after dinner, that Ronnie realised she was sitting in the common room without a pile of homework that needed doing.

“I guess your study group is working out,” she told Heracles.

“That slimy, toad-face git,” said Heracles loudly.

Ronnie nearly jumped in her seat at the exclamation. Thankfully the common was largely empty aside from a group of first years playing a game of gobstones, Ronnie waved them back to their game.

“Umbridge?” Holly asked.

“He’s really gotten to you hasn’t he, Cles?” Ronnie asked, it wasn’t every day that Heracles had something bad to say about a teacher.

“Well, look what he’s doing Ronnie,” Heracles threw his hands up in anger. “He’s taking over the school, first he guts Defence Against the Dark Arts of any actually useful practical element, then he sacks teachers he doesn’t like, next thing you know he’ll be firing Professor Dumbledore.”

“Not to mention what he did to my hand,” growled Holly from beside the fire, lifting her hand so they could see the faint scars Umbridge’s quill had left. Her green eyes were bubbling with anger.

“And that he’s gutted our Defence Against the Dark Arts teachin’,” muttered Hamish darkly.

“We have to do something,” said Heracles, jumping to his feet to pace in front of the fire. “We can’t just sit back and let him do as he pleases.”

“I agree, but what can we do?” Ronnie asked.

“I’m not sure yet, but we can’t just do it openly or he’ll crack down hard,” Heracles replied. “We don’t have the power to do much against him being High Inquisitor.”

“What if we got help from the Order?” Holly asked. “They’d be willing to help.”

“No, that would just expose them and legitimise Fudge’s fears of Dumbledore running a covert organisation,” Heracles shook his head.

“There’s nothin’ in the school rules about us learning things outside the classroom is there?” Hamish asked.

“Not as far as I can remember, no. Why?”

“Might be time we took things into our own hands,” said Hamish. “Time we did somethin’ for ourselves instead of waitin’ to be taught.”

Ronnie found herself nodding in agreement.

“I need to think,” said Heracles. “If we’re doing this, we ought to do right.”

Ronnie glanced at the clock by the radio. It was getting late.

“I’m gonna go to bed anyway,” said Ronnie with a yawn. “Promise you’ll tell us before Hogdsmeade, won’t you?”

“How long’s that?” Holly asked.

“In a week,” replied Heracles. “Don’t worry, I will.”


	8. Hamish

**Hamish**

He scrunched up the piece of parchment, tossing it to land by the overflowing bin. This was the fifth time a formula had failed outright. While everyone else had lessons, he and Heracles shared a free period. With the rest of the study group in class, and little work to do, Hamish had turned to trying out some of the tips from his Arithmancy textbook in an empty classroom.

So far, he had had mixed results, some formulas working, and others not. But now that he was trying to assemble his own formulas, the results were mostly negative. In theory, it should have been easy work creating simple charms for brooms. However, as Professor Vector often pointed out, Arithmancy’s difficulties came when trying to develop new spells, not understand current ones.

Hamish tried again, repeating the figures which had succeeded. Pausing for a moment to think, he added three more signs before picking up his wand.

_“Pertento!”_

The formula glowed a soft blue, matching the glow at his wand tip.

“Yes!” He exclaimed gleefully.

“Not eureka?” Heracles asked over his shoulder, causing Hamish to drop his wand in surprise.

“Ye couldn’t have bin quieter?” He rolled his eyes.

“Sorry, but I think I’ve found a solution to our problem,” said Heracles. “We get Holly to teach us Defence.”

Hamish snorted. “Ye’re jokin’, she won’t say yes.”

“No member of the Order would be willing to risk their cover to teach us,” Heracles continued. “Holly is better than me at Defence, and she has the experience to back it up.”

“It’s not me ye’ll have to convince,” he said, picking up his quill.

)(

“This idea is ridiculous,” said Holly as they walked down the path towards the pub Heracles had chosen. “Me, teaching!”

“It’s not as mad as it sounds Holly,” said Hamish.

“How many people did you invite anyway?”

“Just a few,” Heracles replied.

The Hog’s Head was small, dingy and cramped. A lone patron was perched on a rickety stool as they entered and shivered as the autumn breeze followed them. The barman looked disgruntled as he moved dirt around a glass with a rag.

“Four butterbeers please,” said Heracles whilst Hamish went to the second room to find a table.

This didn’t take long, as it seemed the only other patrons aside the one at the bar were a pair of hags, and a figure wrapped up in bandages sipping a smoking beverage.

Of all the pubs he could’ve picked, why did he pick this one, Hamish thought to himself.

The butterbeers clinked as Heracles put them on the table, before sitting across from Hamish.

“How long til the others get here?” Hamish asked.

“I told people to come around about now,” replied Heracles.

Without a moment’s notice, the door opened, and Dean Thomas, Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown entered the pub. Spotting Hamish, Dean led them over to the table.

“Is this for…?” He trailed off, gesturing between Holly and Heracles.

“Yeah it is,” Heracles smiled. “Thanks for coming.”

Soon enough, a veritable stream of people had gone through the door, including Luna Lovegood who looked as if she had floated down to see the attraction, leaving a flabbergasted bartender sweeping up the remains of a smashed glass. Fred and George strode up to the bar.

“We’ll have,” he paused for a moment to count heads. “Twenty-six butterbeers please. You guys have money with you right? We can’t pay for everyone.”

The crowd groaned, reluctantly pulling out purses to pay for their drinks. Butterbeers in hand, they trooped to join Hamish, Holly, Ronnie and Heracles in the second room, putting chairs together so as to be facing them.

“This isn’t a few,” Holly murmured to Hamish.

“I didn’t think so many would actually show up,” he replied quietly.

The silence was deafening, everyone looked at them expectantly.

Clearing his throat, Heracles got to his feet.

“Er, hi everyone,” he said nervously. “So you all know why we’re here. We need a teacher, a proper teacher,” he added.

However, before Heracles could go much further, the opened door a time final because Callum was a little tired. A small group of four Slytherins had entered the pub. If it was quiet before, Hamish felt this new silence would need a hacksaw to be cut.

“Is this the meeting for Defence?” Asked the leader, a tall, blonde girl wearing a grey wool coat.

“So, what if it is, why are you so interested?” Ronnie asked defensively.

“Because we want to join,” she replied calmly.

“Why would you want to join?” Holly seemed more curious than anything.

“We were friends with Terence,” she said, leading her group into the second room. “And we’re open-minded enough to think there may be some truth to what Dumbledore is saying.”

“Ronnie, we can’t just turn people away because they’re in Slytherin,” said Hamish.

“Malfoy’s in Slytherin,” she pointed out.

“I’m not Malfoy,” the girl said in irritation. “I want nothing to do with the ferret. We’re not here to cause trouble Weasley.”

“I wasn’t saying that-” Ronnie protested, only for Heracles to interrupt her.

“Drop it Ronnie, not every Slytherin is some proto-dark wizard or witch,” he said. “Please, take a seat,” he said to the Slytherins. “We were just getting started.”

“Thank you,” said the girl. “I’m Daphne Greengrass,” she said to Holly. “I think we briefly met at the Yule Ball.”

Holly nodded slowly. “Yeah, I think I remember.”

“Sorry, where was I?” Heracles continued.

“That we need a teacher,” Hamish supplied.

“Mmm, yeah. Right, so we need someone who knows their stuff, someone with the experience who can show us how its done,” he said.

“Why?” Zacharias Smith asked.

“Ye know why,” said Hamish with a sigh, he had been anxious that Smith would be obtuse.

“So, she says,” he gestured to Holly.

“So, Dumbledore says so,” Ginny piped up, clearly annoyed by the interruption.

“Because she says,” Smith retorted.

“Perhaps if Potter told us what she saw,” Terry Boot suggested.

Holly abruptly stood. “I’m not here to talk about what happened that night,” she said firmly before turning to Hamish. “C’mon let’s just go, they just wanna look at the freak.”

“Can’t you cast a Patronus Charm?” Luna Lovegood’s voice floated over the room, bringing Hamish’s attention back to the audience.

“Er, yeah,” Holly seemed unsure of herself.

“It’s true,” said Heracles quickly. “I’ve seen it.”

“It’s that higher than Newt level?” Daphne Greengrass was evidently impressed. “That’s really advanced magic.”

“And in her first year she beat You-Know-Who all by herself,” Ronnie stated proudly.

“I mean, I had you guys helping,” said Holly bashfully.

“Yeah, but it was you who faced him alone in the end,” Heracles reminded her.

“Didn’t you pull the Sword of Gryffindor from the Sorting Hat in second year to fight a basilisk?” Neville asked.

“I yeah but-”

“In her third she beat off a swarm of Dementors,” said Hamish.

“Fourth year you beat all the tasks in the tournament,” Ronnie continued.

“And last year she really did see You-Know-Who in the flesh and duelled him,” Heracles finished.

“Look, I know you all mean well,” said Holly. “But none of you were there, none of you know what it’s like. It’s not like school where a mistake just means more homework, when you’re seconds from death after watching a friend die right before your eyes,” she stopped, pausing to catch her breath. Out of the corner of his eye, Hamish could see the Slytherins were shocked. “You don’t know what it’s like,” she finished.

“You’re right Holly, we don’t,” said Heracles after a moment. “Which is why we need you to help us.”

“Face it Holly, ye’re the best person to teach us,” said Hamish. “Ye know ye stuff, and ye have the experience to keep us from gettin’ big ideas.”

With a resigned look, Holly sat back down.

“So now that’s settled, I’m assuming everyone here is happy to be part of this clandestine group,” Heracles continued, taking out a sheet of parchment and a pen. “So erm, if people wanna put their name down that’d be great.”

“We should have a name for this,” Neville piped up.

“Yeah, like Umbridge stinks,” Ronnie suggested.

“What about Defence Association, or DA for short?” Daphne suggested.

“But instead of it standin’ for Defence Association, it should be Dumbledore’s Army,” said Hamish. “Because that’s what scares Fudge the most these days.”

There was a murmur of agreement.

“Anyone not in favour of calling ourselves Dumbledore’s Army?” Heracles asked. No one raised a hand. “Dumbledore’s Army it is,” he scribbled the name onto the parchment.

As the room added their names to the parchment, Holly turned to Hamish.

“Did you really mean that about me earlier?”

Hamish glanced up from watching Dean Thomas add his name.

“Oh aye,” he nodded. “Ye’ll be great doin’ it, an’ if ye like I can always help ye plan lessons,” he offered.

Holly’s green eyes lit up happily. “Really, that’d be amazing,” she beamed. “Thanks Hamish.”

Once everyone had resumed their seats, Heracles got back on his feet.

“Right, thanks everyone for coming, I promise it will be worth your time,” he said. “We’ll tell you guys when and where we’re meeting once we’ve sorted out someplace where Umbridge can’t find us.”

“Aye, if ye wanna make sure ye can come, jus’ remind us of Quidditch practice or whatever so we can pick an evenin’ we’re all free,” Hamish added.

They waited until the last person had shut the door behind before they got up to leave.

“I think that went well,” said Heracles.

“If you say so,” Holly sighed.

“Hey, if anyone gives you trouble in your first lesson, we’ll make sure they shut up,” said Ronnie fiercely. “Especially that git Zacharias Smith.”

“Oh shite,” said Hamish abruptly. “I told Iolo I’d meet him outside Honeydukes later. I’ll catch ye later,” he called over his shoulder as he jogged back up to Hogsmeade’s high street.

Iolo was stood by the door to Honeydukes as Hamish turned the corner, his brown hair hidden under a blue Ravenclaw hat. His hazel eyes scanned up and down the street as he shoved his hands further into his leather jacket. They lit up when they landed on Hamish, whose stomach flipped as they did.

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” he said as came up to Iolo. “We bumped into the Weasley twins,” Hamish explained.

Iolo chuckled. “Yeah, I’ve heard more than a few rumours about them.”

“They’re probably less crazy than what I’ve seen,” Hamish admitted. “So, did ye have a plan for this afternoon?”

“Well I thought we could get some sweets from Honeydukes,” said Iolo as he stepped a little closer to Hamish, brushing some of his hair behind an ear. “Then maybe go see the Shrieking Shack, the two of us, eat some of the sweets and…,” he trailed off before pecking Hamish on the lips.

Hamish felt his face warm. “Sounds like a plan,” he smiled.

)(

“Ye know Nev, this was a great idea,” said Hamish with a grin.

“Thanks,” Neville beamed.

The Room of Requirement was perfect for DA lessons, unplottable, when in use it would only open to those invited. The Room also provided dummies, targets and other practice gear when Holly imagined it.

“Neville, it’s perfect,” she said softly as she tied her red hair into a ponytail.

Hamish was examining some of the dummies when people began to stream into the room.

“Right, hi everyone thanks for coming,” said Holly once the last person had entered. “I thought today we could start on the basics, so we’ll be going over Disarming.”

“Oh, come on, I think we all know how to Disarm someone,” Zacharias Smith scoffed over Hamish’s shoulder.

“Then perhaps ye’d like to demonstrate if ye’re so competent,” Hamish snarled as he turned to face the obnoxious Hufflepuff. “Or if ye hadn’t noticed, not everyone in this room is a fifth year,” he said, gesturing to Colin Creevey. “When everyone’s up to speed we’ll learn somethin’ new.”

Zacharias looked as if he was about to argue, until he became aware of Fred and George standing on either side of him looking more than a little displeased.

Hamish turned his attention back to Holly, who smiled appreciatively.

“So, can I get a volunteer to demonstrate Disarming?” Holly asked.

Hamish was about to step forward when Ginny marched to the front.

Hamish could have sworn he saw Holly’s shoulders drop a little, before pushing the thought to the back of his mind.

“Thanks Ginny,” said Holly, taking out her wand. “Sorry to say for this, but it’s just to show people how to Disarm.”

“That’s ok,” Ginny nodded.

 _“Expelliarmus!”_ Holly cast, causing Ginny’s wand to leap from her hand into the air. Holly caught it deftly in her hand before giving it back. “Thanks Ginny,” she nodded. “Now if you split into pairs and practice that, I’ll come around and see how people are doing every now and then.”

The room began to sort itself into partners, Ronnie and Heracles practicing in the corner.

“Hamish,” said Holly. He span around quickly from where he had been approaching Neville.

“Aye?”

“Wanna partner up?” Holly asked.

“Sure,” he said. “I was gonna ask Neville if he wanted to join me.”

“Hey Neville,” said Holly. “Fancy joining Hamish and me to practice?”

“That’d be great thanks,” Neville smiled.

The lesson went smoothly after that, Hamish and Neville would take turns trying to Disarm Holly, and then each other whenever Holly went around to examine people’s technique. There were mixed results, while Hamish found himself quickly getting the hang of Disarming, Neville could never quite seem to force Hamish’s wand from his hand.

“Don’t worry about it Nev,” Hamish said kindly. “Jus’ ignore what everyone else if doin’.”

“I’m trying, honestly I am,” said Neville despondently.

“I know Nev,” he patted Neville on the shoulder.

“Right guys,” Holly called, and the last wand clattered to the floor. “It’s getting late, so we should wrap it up for this week.”

“Oh, guys I forgot to mention at the start of tonight’s lesson,” Heracles piped up, fishing something from his bag. “I found a way for us to communicate details about lessons secretly and without having to approach people, which would arouse suspicion,” he continued, revealing a small brown purse which jangled. “I’ve charmed these fake galleons, so if I, or Holly wants to update people, they coin will warm up and reveal a short message.”

He began to go around, handing out the fake galleons.

“Are you sure these are fake, Cles?” Fred asked hopefully.

“We could always do with more funds,” said George.

“You can try, but anyone worth their salt will realise these galleons are lacking their seal of minting, rendering them worthless,” he replied.

“Aw c’mon,” Ronnie moaned jokingly.

“Did you use a Protean Charm for this?” Daphne Greengrass asked.

“Yeah.”

“That’s not taught until Newt,” she sounded more than a little impressed.

“I thought I’d read ahead,” he explained.

“So how does it work, Cles?” Hamish asked as he examined his coin thoughtfully. If he hadn’t noticed the lack of seal, he probably would have believed it to be genuine.

“You press your thumb on the tails and think of the message,” Heracles replied. “Bearing in mind it can’t be a very complex message, just something like the time of a lesson.”

“Great job, Cles,” said Holly. “Seeing as we’ve run past curfew, I’ll check to see if Filch or Mrs Norris is in people’s way back to their common rooms,” Holly brought out the Marauder’s Map from her pocket. “Do Hufflepuffs want to go first?”

Hannah Abbot gathered her fellow Hufflepuffs near the door, waiting for Holly’s signal.

Once the last Ravenclaws had left, leaving them alone in the Room, Hamish went to the corner to pick up his bag.

“I’d say that went pretty well,” he said to the others.

“But next time let me punch Smith,” Ronnie growled. “Absolute git.”

“Hopefully he won’t prove more trouble than he’s worth, I hope for his sake,” Heracles said with a smirk.

“What do you mean?” Holly asked.

“I added a charm to the parchment everyone signed their names on,” he explained. “If anyone blabs about the DA to Umbridge or Filch, let’s just say acne might become an issue for them.”

“Cles, ye can sound right scary when ye put yer mind to it,” Hamish shivered.

“C’mon, let’s go,” said Ronnie.

“Yeah, I think we’re done here,” said Holly, pulling out the Invisibility Cloak from her bag. “Wonder if we’ll bump into Filch on the way,” she added, a mischievous glint in her green eyes.


	9. Holly

**Holly**

“Come in, Potter,” said Professor McGonagall.

She was sat behind her desk, on which were placed several piles of pamphlets. Holly tried to suppress a shudder when she saw Umbridge sat on the side, a clipboard pinched between his fat fingers. From the look on Professor McGonagall’s face, she was equally displeased as Holly with the arrangement.

“Now, I’ll begin by asking you if you’ve given any thought about what you wish to do in life after leaving Hogwarts,” she said briskly as Holly sat down in front of her desk.

“Not really, professor, no,” Holly replied. “I know Ronnie’s thinking of joining the Aurors, but I don’t think it’s what I’d want to do.”

“Well, considering your skill in Defence Against the Dark Arts, you would have the basis which the Auror Office normally looks for,” Professor McGonagall nodded to herself. “But there is no use you going into a profession for which you have no enthusiasm for. Is there anything you do at Hogwarts you feel you enjoy?”

“I mean, there’s always Quidditch,” said Holly after a moment, the idea that she could play it professionally seemed far-fetched, but she knew she was good at being a Seeker and enjoyed it. “If I could play for a team…”

“Indeed, fellow staff members have commented on your skill on the broom, Potter,” said Professor McGonagall, with what Holly detected as a hint of pride. “Clearly you would have no trouble being scouted.”

“Ahem,” Umbridge’s cough interrupted Holly’s train of thought.

“Yes, professor, how may we help?” Professor McGonagall asked curtly.

“I thought I should just point out that most professional Quidditch teams also check into potential recruits’ background,” he said innocently.

“Miss Potter will most certainly not be dropping out of school,” Professor McGonagall turned back to Holly. “Potter, your career path is yours to choose, however I strongly advise you to stay at Hogwarts to complete your Newts.”

“If Miss Potter continues misleading her fellow pupils, her future at this school remains very bleak,” Umbridge remarked smarmily.

“Miss Potter, you will finish your education,” Professor McGonagall’s voice rose. “And I will personally ensure you are trained by the best Quidditch coaches possible. You are dismissed.”

As much as she appreciated Professor McGonagall’s pledge, Holly leapt out of her seat and rushed out of the office, keen to put as much distance between herself and Umbridge as possible.

)(

Holly, Ronnie and Hamish were sat around a table in the common room that evening, a few pieces of parchment between them as they worked out a series of sessions for the DA.

“Well, what about Stunning?” Ronnie asked. “I never got the hang of that, and it sounds cool.”

“I guess yeah, it’s pretty straightforward, too,” Holly replied.

“Aye, but it might make more sense to teach us how to a proper Shield Charm,” suggested Hamish. “Keep up a theme after Disarmin’.”

“Yeah that could work actually,” said Holly as she scribbled it down on their scrap list of lesson ideas. “Teach people how to protect themselves without resorting to attacking someone.”

“So that’d be Disarming, Shield, maybe the Freezing Hex too,” he said.

“I still wanna learn how to do a Patronus,” grumbled Ronnie.

“After Christmas, I promise, Ronnie,” said Holly, rubbing her face. It had been a long day without any free periods, meaning Holly was more tired than usual. “I wish I could just talk to Sirius, she’d know what to do,” she sighed.

“Can’t we just Floo her fireplace?” Ronnie asked.

Holly slapped a hand to her forehead. “Why didn’t I think of that sooner?”

Pulling her red Gryffindor jumper over her head, Holly rushed over to the fireplace.

“Good thing everyone else has gone to bed,” said Hamish, joining her and putting a couple of extra logs on the fire.

“Yeah,” said Holly as she reached up to the bowl of Floo powder on the mantelpiece, smoothing her skirt as she sat back down. “Number twelve, Grimmauld Place,” she said clearly as she tossed a pinch of the grey powder into the flames.

The flames turned a shade of bright green, and within a few moments, Sirius’s head appeared in the fireplace, a hand brushing aside a few loose strands of black hair behind her ear.

“Holly, Hamish, what’s going on?” Sirius asked.

“We need some advice,” said Holly.

“Sure thing, are Ronnie and Heracles with you?”

“I’m here,” said Ronnie, taking a seat on the sofa behind them. “Cles has gone to bed.”

“Right, this isn’t about boys is it?” Sirius nodded. “Or girls?” Sirius winked at Hamish.

“It’s not,” replied Holly.

“And I’m fine on that, Sirius,” said Hamish quickly, before blurting out. “I have a boyfriend anyway.”

“Oh right, sorry for assuming,” said Sirius. “Well if you need advice for those sorts of things, I’m still here.”

“Thanks, Sirius,” Hamish nodded vigorously.

“It’s about Umbridge,” Holly explained.

“Ah yes, that man,” she said in a measured tone. “He’s not training you to kill halfbreeds or anything like that, is he?”

“No, that’s the thing, he’s refusing to teach us,” Holly replied.

“Then it’s as we feared,” Sirius said sadly. “Our intelligence suggests Fudge is scared Dumbledore is training you to take him down.”

“What, like an army?” Ronnie asked with a snort.

“That’s exactly what he thinks,” Sirius confirmed.

“Well, he’s not half wrong,” said Hamish.

“What do you mean?”

“Hamish and Cles talked me into teaching people Defence in our spare time,” Holly replied. “We called it Dumbledore’s Army.”

Sirius barked with laughter. “Brilliant, James would’ve appreciated that,” she said, and Holly felt herself sit a little straighter.

“Really?” Holly asked.

“Oh yeah, he would’ve loved it,” Sirius smiled. “Last year we suspected there was someone in the castle who wanted to hurt you, now we know there’s someone outside Hogwarts who wants you dead,” she continued. “As far as I’m concerned, you should all be trying to get better at Defence. I’d just say to be careful, Umbridge will have spies to try and catch you out, and-”

Sirius stop abruptly, looking behind her at something unseen.

“What is it?” Hamish asked.

“Got to go,” she said quickly, before her head disappeared. A moment later, a disembodied short, fat hand groped around the fire, as if looking for something that was there.

Holly leapt back in surprise, crashing into the back of the sofa.

“Ow,” she said, rubbing the back of her head. “What was that?”

“Umbridge,” said Hamish darkly, his turquoise eyes troubled. “He’s monitoring Floo calls in and out of Hogwarts and we almost got Sirius caught.”

“That means he’s probably searching Owl mail too, doesn’t it?” Ronnie asked with a shudder.

Holly understood the feeling, the thought of Umbridge trawling through her letters felt like a violation of privacy.

“So, we’re on our own,” Holly said, getting to her feet.

That night, Holly’s dreams were filled with grasping hands trying to catch her, to trip her up as she ran to the Room of Requirement. She had to get to the door, to escape Umbridge and see what was on the other side. The stone walls had changed to black tiles, and at the end of the hallway was a door, a door she knew she had to get to. Why she wasn’t sure, but Holly felt not knowing what was on the other side would be bad.

Holly awoke with a start. Looking over to her alarm, Holly allowed her breathing to return to normal. The first rays of sunshine were filtering through the curtains.

)(

It was a grey, miserable sky that greeted Holly and the Gryffindor Quidditch team on the afternoon’s practice, a cold breeze ruffling the hair she had tied back. Holly huddled with Katie Bell and Alicia Spinnet whilst Angelina ordered Fred and George to let Dean Thomas onto the pitch.

A few people were scattered around the stands, grouping in clumps to watch the practice. Heracles and Ronnie gave her a wave.

“Right team,” said Angelina, bringing Holly’s attention back to the pitch. “I’ve been reading about what other teams do in their practice, and we’re way behind.”

“Are you saying the infallible Oliver Wood didn’t run good practices?” Fred asked in mock shock.

“What heresy, I shall be writing to him at once,” said George dramatically.

Angelina sighed. “As good as Oliver was,” she shook her head. “We haven’t done much in the way of physical training before, which is why, from now on we’ll doing ten laps of the pitch before we get into the air.”

“Won’t we be too tired to do any drills though?” Holly asked.

“At first yes, but it’ll get easier to do the drills when we get fitter,” said Angelina. “Now enough with the stalling, there are spare shorts and tops in the changing rooms, I want people back out here in five minutes.”

Five minutes later, and Holly was grumbling and shivering in a grubby, yellow t-shirt and slightly-too-small red shorts that did nothing to stop the wind cutting her to the bone. Dean gave her a weak thumbs up, having managed to snag a top that didn’t have sweat stains under the arm pits.

“Sorry guys, I didn’t realise how old these things were,” said Angelina in disappointment. “Next time just bring your own things for this bit,” she said as a particularly cold gust whipped through them. “Right, let’s get these laps over with and warmed up.”

Just wanting it to be over with, Holly fell into a jog beside Dean. As her legs began to pump, she realised that Angelina was right. At the very least, Holly found it easier to ignore the wind.

However, by the end of her sixth lap, Holly was wishing she could be back in the common room enjoying the comfort of her favourite saggy armchair. Fred, George and Dean had lapped her twice, and even the other girls were a while ahead of her. Chest burning, Holly glanced up at the stands. She stumbled on seeing Daphne Greengrass with a small group of Slytherins; if she saw Holly trailing after everyone with a running nose, word would get around the other DA members and everyone would be questioning her authority.

A second glance however, told Holly that Daphne wasn’t watching her. In fact, she appeared to be engrossed in a conversation with her friends, though she would occasionally spare a glance at one of the boys.

Finally, Holly came to a faltering stop beside Katie Bell after her last lap. Bending over, she wiped her brow of the cold sweat. Now that she had finished however, the cold came back with a vengeance, slicing through Holly’s thin clothing and encasing her in cold sweat.

“Ok team,” said Angelina once she had recovered her breath. “There’s some towels inside, so wipe off the worst of it and throw on your Quidditch robes, I want us to over some chasing drills and give Dean a feel for keeping.”

Holly was glad she had thrown on an extra jumper under her Quidditch robes, as the benefits of the run had worn off.

Angelina had them run some of their usual drills, substituting Holly in for her whilst she coached Dean. Midway through the training, the wind gave way to cold sheets of rain, so by the time that they descended from the air, Holly was drenched to the bone.

“I think that went well,” said Angelina as Holly stepped out of the showers.

“I don’t wanna say I disagree…” Holly trailed off meaningfully.

Angelina chuckled. “Don’t worry, it shouldn’t take too long for us to feel the benefits. I’m wondering about opening the physical section of training to the rest of Gryffindor,” she mused. “It’s not as if we’re doing anything physical aside Quidditch, could be useful.”

Holly mulled the idea for a moment. “I guess it might come in handy for Defence too,” she said after a moment. “It’s not all just knowing the right spell, I’ve had to run a lot to escape Voldemort.”

Angelina flinched. “Sorry, I know I should get used to hearing his name,” she apologised.

“I keep forgetting most people don’t use it,” Holly admitted.

The common room was mercifully warm when Holly entered after Alicia Spinnet, the fireplace was crackling merrily. Heracles and Ronnie were sat on their usual sofa talking to Fred and George.

“You can’t just test your products on first years, it’s dangerous,” said Heracles in exasperation.

“Oh, be not such a spoilsport,” said Fred.

“Besides, they knew all the risks entailed when they signed up,” George added.

“We aren’t giving them anything deadly, just some boils or cramps,” Fred tried to defuse Heracles, who looked ready to start deducting points.

“Holly will agree with us,” said George as Holly plopped down beside Ronnie.

“Er yeah sure,” she said with trepidation.

“Holly, they’re testing potentially dangerous experimental products on eleven year olds,” said Heracles.

“And I’m writing a letter to Padfoot,” said Holly abruptly. “You guys can sort it out yourselves, I’m too tired.”

“I’m coming too,” said Ronnie, starting to follow Holly up to the dorms.

“Ronnie, you’re a prefect too, you need to be part of this,” called Heracles.

“Urgh, fine,” she groaned, returning to the sofa.

Holly smiled on seeing the fifth-year girls’ dormitory was empty when she pushed the door open. Grabbing a piece of parchment and a pen, Holly settled down at the dormitory’s desk. She paused before she started writing, Sirius already knew about the DA and how things were at Hogwarts, so Holly didn’t have to worry about giving away what she was up to to Umbridge. Nevertheless, he was still monitoring the mail, so Holly would need to find another way of getting the letter to her.

I’ll worry about that later, she thought to herself.

_Dear Padfoot,_

_Hope you’re doing well, I know it must be annoying not being able to leave the house these days. I’ve got another problem again, and no it still isn’t boys. We’ve started doing physical training during Quidditch practice, so everything hurts right now. Angelina reckons she should open it up to every Gryffindor, and she’s probably right in saying it’s good for us. Not sure what else there is to say about it, but if you have anything that’ll make it easier, that’d be great._

_Get well soon,_

_Holly_

Now she just had to find a way to get the letter to Sirius. With Umbridge reading all the mail coming from Hogwarts it would be hard. Holly rolled her eyes at her stupidity, she folded the letter and slipped it into her pocket, before snatching up the Invisibility Cloak and the Marauders’ Map.

The path down the secret passageway to Honeydukes was clear, and Holly had no trouble with the trapdoor at the far end, closing it gently. The floorboards creaked softly as Holly made her way to the shop’s entrance, enough that she stopped a few times to make sure the owners were still asleep. Careful to close the door quietly, Holly walked briskly down the quiet Hogsmeade high street.

Even the Three Broomsticks was quiet tonight, the only sound that accompanied Holly was the low moan of the wind, the rain having finally let up some time after practice.

 _“Alohamora!”_ Holly whispered to unlock the Post Room’s door.

Most of the owls were asleep when she entered, but a few stirred. Making her way to the first class section, Holly selected a tawny owl. The street was still quiet when she released him into the night.

The journey back to the common room was going fine until Holly got back into the castle. Filch was patrolling the corridor as Holly climbed the ladder to the witch’s hump, forcing her to wait uncomfortably for him to trudge past and finish the run of the corridor.

By the time Holly got back to the dormitory, she had had to duck into several alcoves and behind a few tapestries to avoid Filch and Mrs Norris. She had barely gotten into her pyjamas before she was back in the hallway. Green torches lit the black tiles in an eerie glow, mahogany doors were spaced on either side, but Holly had eyes for the door at the end of the hallway. If she could just get to it, then she could rest easy.

She reached out a hand, a pale spider-like hand, and Ronnie’s alarm clock jerked her awake.

The morning passed by in a haze for Holly, still tired from Quidditch practice and the night’s trip to Hogsmeade. She finally awoke fully on the way to Divination, as Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown led the class to a different classroom.

“I forgot Trelawney got fired,” muttered Holly.

“Welcome to the day,” Ronnie nudged her lightly in the side, her blue eyes joking. “Where did you go last night?”

“Nowhere,” Holly said quickly.

A bit too quickly apparently, as Ronnie nudged her again.

“I know you Holly Potter, and you’re tired from more than just that Quidditch practice,” she said.

“I went out to Hogsmeade to send Padfoot a letter, that way Umbridge won’t be able to read it,” admitted Holly.

Ronnie’s questions would have to wait however, as they crossed the threshold into their new Divination classroom. Instead of the usual rows of desks or Trelawney’s futons and loveseats, the room had been charmed to resemble part of a forest. The stone floor was covered in spongy green moss, and the trunks of several trees reached up into a starry canopy. A ring of smooth rocks was lit by several glowing moths. Holly gasped in amazement, if she hadn’t walked in from the corridor, she would have thought this was a real forest.

“Hello, young humans,” said a voice from amongst the trees.

A centaur stepped out from behind a tree, prompting audible gasps from Parvati and Lavender.

“Please, sit down,” he said, gesturing to the rocks. “My name is Firenze, Professor Dumbledore offered me a position here to teach you young humans something of the way we centaurs use Divination, which is so different to that of human Seers.”

As much as she felt pity for Professor Trelawney, Holly couldn’t help but admit she definitely enjoyed Firenze’s teaching style over Trelawney’s melodrama. He spoke at length about how reading tarot cards, tea leaves and crystal balls was theatre, upsetting Parvati and Lavender who adored Trelawney, and talk about how centaurs discerned the future from the stars.

“I’ll be honest, not really sure what he was going on about most of the time, but still better than Trelawney,” said Ronnie happily as they came out from the lesson.

“I wonder why he’s teaching us in the castle,” said Holly.

“I think Cles said something about centaurs not associating with humans,” Ronnie replied. “Maybe Professor Dumbledore’s letting him stay in the castle because he can’t teach us and be a part of his herd.”

“Yeah, that’d make sense I suppose.”

“C’mon, I wanna get some lunch before Cles’s study session,” Ronnie said as her stomach rumbled.

Holly laughed. “Yeah, because I’m not listening to you moan about food for an hour.”

“Funny,” said Ronnie in a deadpan voice. “But if Zacharias says something stupid or stares at me weird again, I swear I’ll sprout a tree from his nose.”

)(

The first match of the Hogwarts Quidditch season came at the end of September, and like every year, Holly was excited. Angelina’s training sessions were still tiring, but Holly had become used to running alongside Heracles while Hamish and Ronnie’s long legs carried them ahead. If anything, the training meant she slept better, her sleep uninterrupted by disturbing dreams or nightmares.

The walk down to the changing rooms was pleasant, the sun shone bright in a cloudless, blue sky. There wasn’t a hint of a breeze, marking a good contrast with the icy blasts of the past few practices.

“Good conditions today,” said Angelina as they were getting changed. “We can use this sun to our advantage. Katie, Alicia, Fred, George, if possible put yourselves between the sun and the Slytherin players. Holly, the Snitch will be a glint but be sure it isn’t someone’s watch,” Angelina told them.

“I’ll try not to,” Holly said warmly.

“And Dean,” she said, turning to him. “I know this is your first game, remember what we went over in practice and don’t let the quaffle through your hoops.”

“Will do,” he nodded.

“Right team, first game of the season, let’s make it a good one,” she grabbed her broom and led them out of the changing rooms and onto the pitch.

The roar of the crowd filled Holly’s ears as she stepped onto the grass, still muddy from the week’s rain. She was glad to leave the mud behind as she kicked off the ground and began circling the pitch. Glancing behind her, Holly spotted the year’s new Slytherin Seeker, Theodore Nott, tailing her on his Nimbus 2001. She rolled her eyes, ever since Sirius had bought her her Firebolt, it seemed every other Seeker preferred to let her do the hard work of finding the Snitch.

Several times, Holly spotted the Snitch hovering around the base of the hoops or near the top of one of the towers. With the score still in Slytherin’s favour, Holly would pretend to have seen it at the other end of the pitch, drawing Theodore away with a series of feints and dives.

Dean seemed to be doing well for his first time as Keeper. Holly would quietly cheer whenever he made a save, and sigh when he let the odd quaffle slip through his grasp.

Finally, the score was in Gryffindor’s favour, and Holly began searching for the Snitch in earnest. A glint in the centre of the pitch grew into the golden ball as Holly rocketed towards it, Theodore trailing after her. Taking her feet out of the stirrups, Holly twisted around her broom until she was hanging below it. She reached out a hand and snatched the Snitch before it could get away, before allowing herself to skid to a halt in the mud.

“Gryffindor wins!” Lee Jordan’s voice boomed across the pitch, nearly drowning the roars of approval from the stands.

In moments, Holly was surrounded by her teammates clapping her on the back.

“Great catch, Holly,” said Angelina.

“Yeah, nice one,” Dean grinned.

Holly’s joy was short-lived however, as she overheard Theodore talking loudly to the other Slytherins.

“Yeah well of course she’d use underhand means, it’s all a woman can do,” he said loudly.

“We’ll win our next match,” another voice crowed obnoxiously. “A male captain wouldn’t cheat.”

“Ok shut up, Nott,” said Fred angrily.

“Get over it, you lost fair and square,” George added.

“Oh look, the weasels are trying to talk tough,” Theodore mocked. “Is it to make up for living in that hovel.”

“You take that back,” Holly growled, taking hold of Fred’s arm to stop him from lashing out at Theodore, Angelina taking his other arm.

Holly noticed Katie and Alicia were doing the same for George, who looked ready to punch Theodore.

“Or what scarhead?” Theodore laughed. “You’ll use your special powers? You’re nothing but a freak.”

Holly wasn’t sure when she had taken her wand out, but the next thing she knew, several sets of hands were holding her back as Fred charged at Theodore. With a roar, he knocked Theodore to the ground.

Through the rushing sound of her blood pumping in her ears, Holly heard Hamish calling her name distantly.

“He’s not worth it,” Hamish was saying as Holly allowed herself to be dragged back, hot tears streaming furiously down her face.

It took her a while to come back to her senses, when she did, Umbridge had arrived on the pitch, a green Slytherin flag tucked into his velvet jacket pocket.

“A month’s worth of detention for both you Weasleys,” he had a smug grin on his toad-like face. “Attacking a fellow student is a serious offence.”

By this time, Professor McGonagall had arrived on the pitch and seemed poised to deliver her own punishment.

“The same goes for Miss Potter,” he said, turning to Holly. “And I think a ban is in order.”

“A ban?” Professor McGonagall seemed unprepared for this. “Professor Umbridge, detentions I can understand, but the girl never touched Mr Nott!”

“Professor McGonagall, as High Inquisitor, it is within my power to restrict Miss Potter from any activities in which she had displayed a serious lapse of judgement,” he replied. “She has threatened a fellow student, abusing her position of influence, meriting a suspension from playing and confiscation of her broom.”

“I didn’t touch him,” Holly protested. “He was insulting my friends, you heard him say Angelina wasn’t a good captain because she’s a girl!”

“Miss Potter, any more of this hysteria will result in the ban becoming permanent.”

“Hysteria?!” Holly cried indignantly.

“And an additional week’s detention, I think, might calm your head,” Umbridge smirked.

“Holly, c’mon let’s go,” said Hamish in her ear.

Somehow, Hamish and Ronnie managed to get Holly back into the changing rooms, leaving her Firebolt in Angelina’s hands.  

“I’m sorry, I let him get to me,” she hung her head in shame.

“No, it’s ok, they were both right out of order,” said Hamish.

Holly felt herself flush. “Yeah, but now I’m banned from Quidditch.”

“True, losing ye temper did make things worse,” Hamish admitted. “But if I’d been in ye shoes I’d have lost my temper too.”

“Yeah, and all that stuff about hysteria,” Ronnie added. “My mum says it’s one of the oldest tricks men say to make women seem unreasonable.”

At that moment, the rest of the team came in. They proceeded to get changed in stony silence as Heracles came through the entrance. On spotting Holly sat hunched and gloomy in her Quidditch gear, he quickly rushed over.

“Umbridge has suspended the Gryffindor team,” he said quietly to Holly.

“Because of me, I bet,” said Holly gloomily.

“Actually, Angelina and the rest tried to challenge Umbridge’s decision to have you, Fred and George banned,” Heracles corrected her kindly, joining Hamish and Ronnie in sitting on either side of her.

“That guy is crazy,” Ronnie sighed.

“No, he’s a methodical, toad-faced git,” said Heracles bluntly. Holly blanched, if Heracles was driven to cursing Umbridge then it had to mean even he could see how bad he was. “He’s portraying his actions as necessary to large parts of Hogwarts, the ignorant ones, and to Fudge, allowing him to amass more authority to shape the school as he sees fit.”

“And I played right into his hands,” Holly sighed heavily.

“If it’s any consolation, Umbridge won’t be able to uphold the team’s suspension,” Heracles put an arm around her muddy shoulder. “If he wants to dismantle Quidditch at Hogwarts he’ll have to disrupt it more subtly, which will take time.”

“And if the track record for Defence teachers is anythin’ to go by, he won’t last the year anyway,” Hamish chuckled, prompting half a smile on Holly’s face as the rest of the team quietly mooched out of the changing rooms.

“You might not be able to fly anymore, but he still doesn’t know about the DA,” said Ronnie bracingly. “And you’ll still be able to run the laps before practices.”

“Ronnie’s righ’,” said Hamish. “There’s more to Holly Potter than just being the Gryffindor Seeker.”

“I need to get changed,” said Holly abruptly, getting to her feet to make her way to the showers. For some reason, she couldn’t help but feel irritated by her friends and furious at what Umbridge had done, yet also ashamed that she had needed holding back by Hamish and Ronnie whilst Angelina stayed calm. Holly knew that both of them understood, but she kept seeing Hamish’s look of resigned disappointment whilst she showered.

When Holly emerged, pulling on a pair of jeans and throwing one of Mrs Weasley’s knitted jumpers, her friends had left. She smiled, appreciating their understanding that she needed some time alone. The walk back up to the castle was spent replaying events in her head, so much so, that when she arrived back in Gryffindor tower, Holly went straight up to bed.

She needed an escape from Hogwarts and Umbridge. Flipping open her trunk, Holly spied the old and battered book Remus had given her at the end of third year. After having changed into her pyjamas and slipped under her covers, Holly was lost on the quest to the Lonely Mountain. She continued to read, even as the rest of the girls filtered into the dorm, closing her four poster’s curtains when she felt Parvati was getting too close.

Holly winced at the idea of being squashed into jelly, quietly cheered when Bilbo freed the dwarves from the wood elves’ prison before realising the time. Her dreams continued where she had left off, following the companions down the river, past trees, rocks, doors. The black tiles slid past her as she walked briskly down the hallway, ignoring the doors either side. The door at the end was getting closer this time, she could feel it.

“Holly are you getting up today?” Ronnie’s voice jolted Holly awake.

“Mmm, wha- yeah sure,” she replied groggily, cursing Ronnie for waking her before she could find out what was behind the door.


	10. Ronnie

**Ronnie**

“C’mon sleepyhead,” said Ronnie, throwing open the curtains on Holly’s four-poster bed. “I am not missing breakfast because of you.”

Holly groaned, but gave in to Ronnie’s demand.

Breakfast itself was uneventful, the swamp on the way to Transfiguration less so. A crowd was blocking the corridor as Ronnie and Holly approached. Glancing over a few heads, Ronnie caught glimpses of reeds and grassy tussocks.

“What’s going on?” Ronnie asked Hamish.

Someone’s made a bit of swamp appear in the way,” he snorted. “I don’t think Fred an’ George took kindly to being kicked off the team yesterday.”

“At this point, I’m not even angry,” said Heracles. “Just impressed.”

Indeed, in the centre of the swamp, standing atop one of the larger grass tussocks, Ronnie’s brothers were beaming as the applause rolled in.

“Thank you, thank you,” said Fred.

“No, thank you,” George continued.

“Ladies and gentlemen, what you see before you is but one of our many portable impassable terrain models,” announced Fred.

“We also do ponds, rocky scree and boiling geysers, anything to slow down others’ day,” George told the audience.

“All these, and many other products for the discerning prankster can be found in Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes, premises opening on Diagon Alley in a week,” Fred finished.

“You two are about to find out what happens to wrongdoers in my school,” a voice parted the crowd on the other side of the swamp.

Umbridge, flustered and out of breath from getting to the swamp in time, adjusted his blue tie menacingly.

“You know, Fred, I don’t think we will,” said George nonchalantly.

“I concur, George, old boy,” Fred nodded.

“We’ve outgrown full-time education.”

“Time to test our talents in the real world.”

 _“Accio brooms!”_ They cried as they whipped out their wands.

There was a great banging and rattling of chains, and before Ronnie could so much as say Quidditch, the twins’ brooms shot over her head.

“We won’t be seeing you,” said Fred.

“So, no need to write,” George added.

“Special discounts at Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes for anyone buying things to get rid of this bastard,” Fred finished.

“Stop them,” cried Umbridge as the twins flew over his head and out the open window.

“Give him hell from us, Peeves,” they shouted over their shoulders.

The poltergeist, who had been cackling at the chaos, returned a swift salute before they vanished out of sight.

“Wish they’d gotten my broom out as well,” Holly muttered as Umbridge and Professor Flitwick ushered pupils to their classes.

There was a new notice when they returned to the common room before dinner.

_By order of the Hogwarts High Inquisitor Desquin Umbridge,_

_Any pupils wishing to sign up for the Inquisitorial Squad for extra credit may sign up at the High Inquisitor’s office_ _._

“I can’t begin to imagine who’s going to be signing up for that,” said Heracles, ripping the notice from the board as he rolled his brown eyes.

“At least not every Slytherin is like that,” said Ronnie, half a smile on her face as she dumped her bag on their usual sofa. “We have allies in Daphne and her friends.”

“And how much power are they gonna have really, aside a stupid badge to wear?” Holly asked.

“I suppose we’ll find out over the next few weeks,” Ronnie shrugged her shoulders.

)(

Indeed, it seemed the members of the Inquisitorial Squad did have more power once they signed up. In the second prefects’ meeting, Terry Boot moaned about being given a detention by Theodore Nott for the simple act of deducting points from some Slytherin first years for being out of bounds.

“He just restored their points and gave me a lunchtime with Snape,” he huffed.

However, it seemed despite Umbridge’s new Inquisitorial Squad posing problems for the prefects, Fred and George’s promise of a discount had inspired quite a few people on Hogwarts to make life difficult for Umbridge.

Every few days, a fresh round of dungbombs would go off during a DADA lesson, forcing Umbridge to stop teaching and spend a week attempting to rid the room of the stench. The swamp the twins had installed on the fourth-floor corridor proved resistant to all attempts to remove it, and Professor Flitwick allowed half of it to remain cordoned off as a testament to Fred and George’s remarkable talent in creating it. Fireworks would go off at unexpected intervals in the great hall, adding an element of surprise to meals.

All the more amusing to Ronnie was the day someone cast a spell on Umbridge’s own office. He arrived late to one of their DADA lessons, grumbling about “everything being in freefall”, to Ronnie’s confusion.

“He’s probably talkin’ about the portal spell on his office,” said Hamish after the lesson. “Everythin’ in his office fallin’ through a portal on his floor and reappearing in an exit portal on the ceilin’.”

“How are you that specific?” Holly asked.

“Because I created and cast the charm,” he admitted with a grin.

“Has this got to do with the arithmancy you’ve been doing over the weekend?” Heracles asked.

“Aye, and it turned out very nicely,” Hamish replied.

Ronnie laughed. “That’s brilliant, Hamish.”

)(

The days rolled into the weekend, the addition of fanged frisbees into the repertoire of Hogwarts’s pranksters made for a nice change from fireworks. Sunday afternoon was blustery as Ronnie flipped through her latest issue of _Quidditch Quarterly_ , Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown were trying out new nail varnishes Parvati’s mother had sent her by owl.

Holly burst into the changing room in a rush.

“Ronnie, can you come with me down to the pitch?” She asked desperately. “Hamish talked me into going to Angelina’s physical training.”

Ronnie glanced over to where Lavender and Parvati seemed to be eyeing her own nails. Reasoning that anything was better than being subjected to their pampering, she nodded.

“Alright,” she said, folding the top corner of her page before getting of her bed.

The minute Ronnie finished her third lap of the pitch, she began to rethink her strategy. While she was avoiding Lavender and Parvati, the wind was numbing her fingers.

Bundled up in a scarf and jacket, the walk back to the castle was more pleasant the trip down the pitch had been.

“Do ye think it’s makin’ a difference?” Hamish asked, brushing curls out of his face.

“What is?” Ronnie adjusted her orange bobble hat.

“These laps of the pitch,” he said. “I’m sure they’ll help for the DA and defence, ye know, bein’ fit’s part of bein’ good at defence.”

“Didn’t stop me complaining to Sirius,” Holly grunted grumpily, her nose crinkling in annoyance.

Ronnie’s laugh died as they entered the entrance hall. Neville stood waiting for them, anxiously brushing his hair behind an ear.

“Hey Nev, everything alright?” Ronnie asked.

“You guys haven’t heard?” He looked around, as if expecting someone to be eavesdropping.

“Heard what?” Holly’s voice held a note of trepidation.

“Umbridge has just banned every club and society that he doesn’t agree with,” said Neville sadly.

“Well, it’s a good thing we were already underground then eh?” Ronnie snorted.

“So, we’re just gonna carry on?” Neville’s anxiety reached his eyes.

“You’re damn right we are, Nev,” Holly said reassuringly.

“Clearly he know’s somethin’s going on,” said Hamish as they began to climb the stairs. “So we’ll have to be extra careful about how go doin’ things now, but Holly, Ronnie and me have a whole set of lessons planned out.”

The common room was quiet when they stepped through the portrait hole. Heracles was watching the fire as they entered.

“I assume Neville’s told you the bad news,” he said with a sigh.

“Yeah,” replied Ronnie. “It’s not as if it’ll stop us.”

“If that’s your decision Holly, then I’ll send word to everyone,” he said, withdrawing his fake galleon from his pocket.

Holly nodded absentmindedly. “Yeah, you do that. I’m gonna have a shower and get a nap in before dinner.”

“You ok Holly?” Ronnie asked.

“Just a bit tired.”

This seemed an understatement to Ronnie, as the bags under Holly’s eyes attested. She had begun to notice her friend spent a lot of her day distracted, and her normally vibrant fiery hair was more often than not limp and dull. It didn’t take a genius to see Holly wasn’t sleeping very well.


	11. Holly

**Holly**

The Wednesday mail brought a pleasant surprise for Holly in the shape of a package from Sirius. Since she had a Care of Magical Creatures lesson, she stashed it under her bed for safekeeping. A second surprise came in the form of Hagrid.

Sadly, the lesson was taught by Professor Grubbly-Plank, Hagrid opting to give her a wave through the window of his hut. After class, she and Hamish knocked on his door.

“Comin’,” he called, before opening the door and ushering them inside.

“Hey, Hagrid,” said Holly, throwing her arms around his middle.

“Alrigh’ Holly, good to see yeh as well,” he said, patting her gently on the shoulders. “Doin’ alrigh’ Hamish?”

“Aye, but better now ye’re back,” said Hamish happily.

“So, wha’ can I do fer yeh?” He asked as Holly plopped herself down on the floor beside Fang, who delivered a slobbery kiss. “Don’t yeh ‘ave lessons to get to?”

“Mornin’ break, Hagrid,” Hamish replied.

“Oh, righ’,” said Hagrid sheepishly. “It’s bin a while.”

“Yeah, where-” Holly began, only for an audible gasp to leave her lips on seeing the gashes on the side of Hagrid’s face. “Hagrid, what happened to your face?”

“I don’t think I can tell yeh tha’,” he said hurriedly, slapping a slab of red meat onto the injured side.

“We know about the Order, you might as well tell us,” said Holly reasonably.

Hagrid looked reluctant to tell them, but Holly continued to stare him down.

“Alrigh’ then, but this stays between us,” he relented. “It was giants tha’ did this.”

“Giants?!” Hamish sounded half impressed and half shocked.

“Part of Dumbledore’s plan, go an’ talk to the giants before You-Know-‘ho’s lot did,” he continued. “Course me an’ Madame Maxine found ‘em o’ course, Dumbledore knew where to look.”

“You went with Madam Maxine?” Holly asked. The last time she had seen the Beauxbatons headmistress had been as the school was leaving Hogwarts, she hardly seemed the type to go on an adventure into the wilderness.

“I know wha’ yer thinkin’, but she can climb a mountain if she puts ‘er mind to it, an’ she rustled up plenty o’ meals too,” Hagrid said with a note of admiration.

“Did ye manage to talk to the giants in the end?” Hamish asked.

“Yeh we did,” he nodded. “Was goin’ well too, we gave our gifts to their chief, gave ‘em Dumbledore’s regards. Course we didn’t wanna go too quick, giants are suspicious of people as it is, wha’ with the reservations n all.”

“But they listened to Dumbledore’s message, didn’t they?” Holly asked as she rubbed Fang’s side.

“Oh yeh, least the chief listened, seemed to remember Dumbledore ‘ad done ‘em a few favours after the last war,” said Hagrid, giving the steak a squeeze, releasing a dribble of juices down his cheek and into his beard. “But durin’ the night, one o’ their grudgematches got out o’ hand, cuz the next mornin’ the old chief is dead, and this new chief didn’t like us one bit.”

“Is that how ye got your…,” Hamish’s voice trailed off, his turquoise eyes alight with horrified curiosity.

“Nah, this were thanks to the Death Eaters,” he replied with a sigh.

“Death Eaters?!” Holly and Hamish exclaimed in unison.

“Yup, managed to show up later tha’ mornin’, bearin’ their own gifts and promises,” he explained. “We saw ‘em as we was tryin’ to leave quietly, picked this up when some o’ them chased us,” he gestured to his face.

“But ye ma-” Hamish was interrupted by several firm raps on Hagrid’s door.

Before Hagrid could so much as open his mouth, Holly had whipped out the Cloak and thrown it over herself and Hamish. It had become habit for her to stuff it into her bag each morning, something she was immensely grateful for when Hagrid opened the door to reveal the tweed-wearing toad that was Umbridge standing pompously on his doorstep.

“Ah, I heard you would be back,” he said happily.

“Er yeh, I’ve been away, for me health,” Hagrid said uncertainly.

“For your health?”

“Yeh, bit o’ fresh air is all,” replied Hagrid

“Indeed, as gamekeeper, fresh air must be hard to come by,” Umbridge nodded slowly. “Well, I shan’t bother you any longer, but I wouldn’t bother unpacking.”

Hagrid closed the door slowly, clearly shaken by the encounter.

“Was tha’ yer new teacher?” He asked tentatively.

“Sad to say yes,” Holly said as she removed the Cloak. “But calling him a teacher is exaggerating more than a bit.”

)(

Holly returned to the common room after dinner and went straight up to the dorms, not wanting to wait any longer to see the package Sirius had sent her. When she entered, Parvati and Lavender were smothering Ronnie, who gave Holly a stricken look.

Help, she mouthed.

“Evening all,” said Holly, prompting Parvati and Lavender to whip around simultaneously.

“Oh, hey Holly, we were just showing Ronnie some of my new varnishes,” said Parvati.

“Yeah, would you like to try them too?” Lavender asked.

“I’m fine right now thanks, but Seamus wants to talk to Parvati,” said Holly, hoping the lie would get them to leave.

“Oh, I suppose I’d better go talk to him,” said Parvati.

“I’ll come too,” said Lavender, following her friend out of the dorm.

Once they had left, Ronnie let out a mighty sigh, flicking a strand of her orange hair out of her hair.

“Thank Merlin you came when you did,” she said. “Thought I was a goner.”

“Can I ask how they got you into that position?” Holly opened the letter attached to Sirius’s package.

“No,” Ronnie grumbled.

Holly shrugged before turning to the letter.

_Holly,_

_I know it’s a pain, but Hamish is right in saying it will help for Defence. I’ve seen more than a few duels decided by one participant being unfit. It’s a bit unnerving that Molly knows your measurements, but hopefully you’ll find these things to make the training a little easier._

_Padfoot_

Curious, Holly tossed the letter on the bed, before tearing open the package. Several pairs of sports bras tumbled onto her bed, prompting a yelp of surprise from Holly.

“What is it?” Ronnie asked.

“Er, nothing, I thought Sirius had sent me something else,” Holly blushed, picking up one of the bras. A light green, the material felt a little strange to her. Deciding the nothing ventured was nothing gained, Holly opted to wear it to the next training session.

The decision proved to be a good idea; while Holly was still tired after running her laps, she found her back wasn’t aching nearly as much as before. So much so, that Holly decided she would wear them every day rather than deal with the hassle of her normal bras.

)(

It was the last lesson of the DA before the Christmas holidays, and Holly was tired. Umbridge’s Inquisitorial Squad had been hounding her since lunchtime, apparently hoping to find some dirt which they might used to get her into trouble with Umbridge. Ever since Hamish had used his experimental portalling spelling on Umbridge’s office, the High Inquisitor had found any excuse to rile Holly into landing herself a detention. It seemed he believed Holly was behind the spate of pranks that followed him around Hogwarts, this week Holly had “been responsible” for the floating halo of alarm clocks. Holly was almost certain from his giggling, that Hamish had been the one to charm them.

“What are ye talkin’ about, I’ve bin with Iolo all this time,” he would protest, conveniently pulling his boyfriend out of thin air.

Perhaps it was due to not wanting Umbridge to think he was getting through to her, but Holly managed to hold her tongue whenever the High Inquisitor baited her with snide comments about her state of mind. She knew he was waiting for the slightest provocation or scrap of proof, which explained the Inquisitorial Squad tailing her between classes.

Nevertheless, Holly was more than glad to announce the end of the lesson.

“Great job guys,” she said with a tired smile. “Cles has got the Map, so check with him before you leave so you don’t get caught.”

“Thanks, Holly,” said Terry Boot.

“Yeah, thanks,” Hannah Abbot said as she passed her.

“Holly,” said Daphne, pausing on her way out. “Thanks for teaching my friends and I, it means a lot.”

“Oh, right, yeah, sure thing,” she replied taken aback.

“I don’t have to be an ice queen all the time,” Daphne tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. “I was just being honest,” a smile flitted across her lips as she left.

After a while, the remaining people filtered out, leaving Holly alone with her friends. Holly went around the room, picking up dummies and setting them back on their stands. Her body moved without much thought, her mind settling back onto the events of the first term. She was sure it had been worse than any she’d experienced at Hogwarts, capped off with a Quidditch ban. The thought brought a surge of anger through her, and Holly nearly jumped at the crash as she put back a dummy more violently than she had intended.

“Hols, ye alright?”

Holly slowly turned around, Ronnie, Heracles and the twins were gone, leaving only her and Hamish. He was stood awkwardly by the Christmas tree, the Map and Cloak in each hand.

“Y-yeah, of course I am, why wouldn’t I be?” Holly replied quickly.

“Uhuh?” Hamish did not look convinced, concerned etched across his freckled face.

Holly sighed heavily in defeat. “Urgh, fine, I’m not alright,” she admitted. “I just- this year is the worst. I know we’re making progress with the DA, but every time we take a step forward, it feels like the world takes two steps back. I mean, with everything Umbridge is doing to ruin Hogwarts, the stories in the Prophet, even if I don’t read them. I feel as if I have to be alert, all the time in case someone jumps out to smear me. And all this while Voldemort is out there, somewhere causing havoc but no one can see the truth; and to top it off I can’t play Quidditch! And now I’m just being selfish because I can’t play when people are dying, and these people are relying on me to teach them to protect themselves!” Holly gasped, out of breath.

“So that’s a lot on ye mind,” said Hamish slowly as he came over.

“I’m sorry Hamish, I’m a terrible teacher,” she muttered.

“Don’t you dare say that Holly Potter, you are a great teacher,” he said fiercely, his turquoise eyes blazing. “This only proves ye’re human, teachers are allowed to be human. And admittin’ feelings is part of that.”

“Y-ou think so?”

“I know so.”

Holly threw herself at Hamish, wrapping her arms around his chest. The hug seemed to take him by surprise, but only for a moment as he returned the embrace. A lone tear ran down her cheek as a sob escaped her lips, followed by another, and another. Soon, Holly was racked by sobs and tear streamed down her cheeks. She buried her face into Hamish’s chest as all the pent-up fear and frustration forced its way out.

As Holly’s tears subsided, she let out a deep breath.

“Feelin’ a wee bit better?” Hamish asked gently.

“Hmm?” Holly looked up, a small smile was tugging on his lips. “Yeah,” she untangled her arms from around his middle. “Thanks for putting up with that.”

“No worries,” he nodded. “It’s what friends are for,” he said. “We should probably get back to the common room before Cles starts to worry.”

Holly snorted. “Yeah, wouldn’t want him to open an investigation.”

Most people had gone up to bed when they returned to the common room, leaving just Ronnie and Heracles waiting in front of the fire.

“There you are, you took your time,” said Ronnie.

“Everything alright guys?” Heracles asked.

“Yeah I’m just a little tired after today,” said Holly. “I’m just gonna go to bed now before I fall asleep on anyone.”

Holly was asleep before her head hit the pillows as she returned to the long, black-tiled corridor. Just as always, the door loomed closer and closer, and Holly reached out a pale, spidery hand to grasp the knob. The door opened easily under her touch, revealing a great space containing row upon row of shelves going into the darkness. Each set of shelves was covered in all manner of dusty, glass spheres, grey clouds swirling in each.

But she wasn’t there to admire the sights, she had to find it. Closing the door behind her, she began to walk quickly along the rows. Holly knew she was getting closer, if she could only get a little further and she would-

“Time to get up Hols,” Ronnie’s voice jolted Holly from slumber.

“Yeah, I’m getting up,” she groaned, reluctantly removing her duvet. She had been so close to find out what was behind the door, close enough to touch it. Holly couldn’t help but feel disappointed as she pushed her feet through a pair of jeans and threw on her Gryffindor jumper.

At least the weekend would give Holly some reprieve from Umbridge.


	12. Daphne

**Daphne**

The common room was emptied of lower years when Daphne, Astoria and Blaise returned, discreetly blending into the shadows as they tried to get back to their quarters without being noticed by the large group of sixth years. Daphne caught a few words as they passed.

“Completely mad,” said Marcus Flint scornfully.

“Yeah, I can’t believe anyone would believe her, she’s so hysterical all the time,” Theodore Nott laughed.

“Probably comes when you hang around with Mudbloods too long,” cackled Millicent Bulstrode.

“Real pity, if it weren’t for being a hysterical blood traitor, I might’ve considered her worth it.”

It wasn’t hard to guess the topic of discussion. Holly Potter had been Slytherin’s conversation punching bag since Malfoy had failed to win her over back in Daphne’s first year. She rolled her eyes; the subject was going through its phase of wishing Holly pain. Daphne had heard the conversation play out so many times she could almost predict the cycle.

Bidding Blaise and Astoria good night, Daphne entered the fifth-year girls’ dormitory. Dracia and Pansy Parkinson were deep in conversation as Daphne tossed her bag and cloak.

“Where have you been?” Pansy asked pointedly.

“Library,” grunted Daphne, pulling her hair out of its ponytail.

“Urgh, you’re always working Daph,” she moaned.

“Firstly, I’d rather get on in life from my own achievements, and I never said you could call me Daph,” Daphne said sharply.

“Urgh whatever,” Pansy waved her hand dismissively. “I managed to get four Gryffindor’s a week’s detention with Umbridge, that is an achievement.”

Daphne sighed quietly, for someone in Slytherin, Parkinson was decidedly not the sharpest tool in the shed. Reasoning she would have to put up with her story if she stayed in the room, Daphne slipped out when Pansy turned back to Dracia who had been unusually silent. She needed a break from hearing more stupidity tumbling from Pansy’s mouth, she had had enough of it during Charms.

Before she could make much headway however, Daphne felt a hand around her wrist. Dracia’s grey eyes were scanning her face pointedly before she spoke.

“Make sure this gets to Granger,” she said hurriedly, placing a folded parchment in Daphne’s hand.

“What are you up to Dracia?” Daphne asked, only for Malfoy to hurry back into the dormitory.

Reasoning she could read the note later, she made her way silently out of the common room.

The castle was quiet as she snuck out, the paintings snoring in their frames. Having memorised the patrol schedule, Daphne managed to avoid Filch and the prefects on duty. Ducking into an alcove for the fifth time however, she began to envy Holly with her secret map and invisibility cloak. When she had seen them at the end of the first DA session, something had clicked in her head.

It was rumoured that Holly Potter and her friends wandered the castle past curfew, which would explain some of the stories she had eavesdropped in passing. However, up until that point, Daphne had assumed these to simple tall tales told some Gryffindors to impress first years. The Hogwarts gossip mill would have informed her of Holly Potter being caught breaking curfew had the rumours been true. After having seen the secret map and invisibility cloak however, Daphne could easily see how Holly and her friends might be some of Hogwarts’s most proficient curfew breakers, with the exception of the Weasley twins.

As for herself, Daphne rarely broke school rules. She had learnt the rota and schedule of night-time patrols after her sister had been caught sneaking out of the common room. Catching Astoria herself was infinitely preferable than having Filch deduct points from Slytherin and receiving a Howler from her parents reminding her of her “elder sister responsibilities”.

Daphne was so lost in thought she barely registered the cold until she was standing in the quad. Snow was softly falling on the grass as she walked along the gallery, folding her arms across herself to ward off the chill.

On the other side of the quad, Daphne spotted orange locks wrapped into a loose bun belonging to Ginny Weasley. They had partnered up a few times in DA sessions to practice, Daphne recalled she had been one of the few Gryffindors who didn’t actively avoid her at meetings. Whereas some snidely questioned her loyalty, Ginny had been consistently polite to her and her friends. It also helped that Daphne found the youngest Weasley quite attractive, not that she would freely admit this, even to herself.

Deciding she could do with some company, Daphne quickly walked to the opposite side of the quad.

“Fancy seeing you here,” she said, inwardly cringing at how stupid she sounded.

“Oh hey,” she said. “Didn’t see you there.”

“That much was obvious,” Daphne remarked jokingly. “Mind if I join you?” She asked, gesturing to the bench she was sat on.

“Sure,” she sighed. “I just got tired of trying to work up some courage.”

“Courage for what?” Daphne shivered, feeling her rear growing numb from the cold bench.

“Oh, well there’s this person I like, have liked for a while, but I don’t know how to tell them,” Ginny explained.

“Don’t suppose it’s someone in the DA then?”

“Hmmph, it’s true when they say Slytherins are perceptive,” Ginny replied, brushing a strand of her orange hair behind her ear. “I can’t help but feel she wouldn’t take it well if I just came out and said it then.”

“I didn’t know you were into girls,” Daphne probed gently.

“I-I’m not,” the reply came a little too quickly, confirming Daphne’s suspicions. If she could just narrow down whom this girl Ginny liked was, perhaps she might stand a chance.

“Sure you don’t, and I’m as straight as a ruler as well,” she admitted slyly, prompting Ginny’s hazel eyes to widen. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone,” she promised. “So, what did you think of tonight’s session?”

“Pretty fun, feels like I’m making progress,” she answered.

“Yeah, but I can’t wait to move on to the harder stuff after Christmas,” said Daphne. “I’m getting a bit tired of Stunning spells, especially after last week.”

“When Astoria gave you a nosebleed?” Ginny chuckled.

“Yeah, my finest moment,” she mumbled.  

“Well you I thought you took it quite well,” a smile played on Ginny’s lips.

“If you say so, it can’t have been worse than when Zacharias Smith tried to Disarm someone and ended up losing his own wand,” she mused, struggling to hide the blush creeping up her face.   

“I think he’s a special case of incompetent,” said Ginny, hazel eyes twinkling in mirth, seemingly oblivious to Daphne’s embarrassment.

She snorted. “I’m certainly glad he’s not in my house, I’ve already got my hands full of obnoxious.”

“You have my sympathy,” Ginny bowed his head.

“Urgh, speaking of, I should probably get my to my dorm, Pansy’s probably finished her story by now and I’ll be able to get some peace and quiet,” Daphne shivered, starting to regret coming out in only her shirt, even the thin Slytherin jumper would have offered a measure of warmth.

“Is my company that bad?” Asked Ginny in mock-hurt.

“That’s not what I said.”

“No, don’t worry I get it, I ought to get back to Gryffindor Tower,” she readjusted her loose bun as she stood. “So, I’ll see you around I guess.”

“You know, you could write, over the holiday that is,” Daphne said quickly, abruptly getting to her feet. “If you wanted to.”

Ginny stopped, turning back to face her.

Why did I say that? Daphne asked herself. She’s a Gryffindor, that fancies someone else altogether for Merlin’s sake.

“Would I get a reply?” Ginny seemed entertained by the thought.

“Depends if it’s a good letter,” she said playfully. “By the way, who is this mystery girl? I might be able to help.”

“It’s Holly,” Ginny admitted.

“You’ve chosen a hard target,” said Daphne, more to herself than to Ginny. How could she possibly hope to compare to the perfect Holly Potter?

“I know,” she sighed.

“Well, I’ll see you around, Weasley,” Daphne strode away.

“Be seeing you, Greengrass,” Ginny called after her.  


	13. Heracles

**Heracles**

The last few days of term were always a little more subdued, with many people having left homework to the last minute, resulting in the library being a hub of stressed, scribbling activity. This left much of the rest of Hogwarts largely deserted, leaving Heracles and his friends free to roam the castle in peace.

Umbridge had decided to implement a new decree that morning, dictating that male and female students had to remain at least eight inches apart, naturally prompting more than a few to carry their rulers out to ensure they adhered to the new rule.

“I’m still curious as to how this will be enforced,” said Heracles as they walked along the shore of the Black Lake bundled up in scarves and coats against the winter chill. “Will Umbridge be going around punishing everyone if there’s a jam in the corridors?”

“Maybe it’s revenge because he never found love in his life?” Ronnie pondered aloud. It was rumoured the ban was implemented after Umbridge had caught two Hufflepuffs in a broom closet.

“Not hard to believe,” said Holly, readjusting her hat as a gust buffeted them. “Still, I don’t think everyone is going to be affected by the ban.”

Heracles snorted, Hamish had been greatly amused by the notice pinned to the board in the common room that morning.

“Yes, I’m sure this will put a real dampener on Hamish,” he said wryly.

“Where is he, anyway?” Ronnie asked as kicked some gravel.

“My money says with Iolo,” replied Heracles. “I believe he mentioned something about a study session with him.”

The crunch of gravel alerted Heracles to someone’s approach. Walking up to them looking more than slightly annoyed, her blond hair whipping about in the wind, was Daphne Greengrass.

“I’ve been all over looking for you,” she said pointedly. “Need to give you this,” she thrust a folded slip of parchment at him.

“Thanks,” he said as he took it. “Do I know who it’s from?”

“That’s not for me to say, but the information inside is important,” she replied.

Heracles unfolded the parchment, the writing was small and neat, but evidently scribbled in haste. Whoever was writing had done so with fear of being caught in the act.

_I can’t tell you who I am, but I joined the Inquisitorial Squad. Umbridge knows about your group and is trying to find out where and when you have your meetings._

“What is it?” Asked Holly.

“Have you read it?” Heracles asked Daphne, passing the note to Holly for her to read.

“I’m a Slytherin,” replied Daphne simply. “I just hope this person finds a better of communicating to us if they’re gonna be spying on Umbridge. As far as everyone in Slytherin is concerned, I study in the library during DA sessions.”

“Do you think we can find out who this person is?” Ronnie asked, scrunching her long nose in thought.

“I wouldn’t advise it,” said Heracles. “We don’t want to inadvertently blow their cover.”

“I need to get back to the common room before things start looking suspicious,” said Daphne. “And to get out of this damn cold.”

“Thanks for bringing this to my attention Daphne,” Heracles said gratefully. “Enjoy the holiday.”

“Yeah thanks, Daphne,” said Holly.

“No problem, I always do,” she said. “Weasley, Granger, Potter.”

“Well at least someone’s on our side,” said Ronnie after she had left.

“Yeah,” Holly shivered. “Anyone up for seeing Hagrid? This cold is starting to get to me.”


	14. Holly

**Holly**

The tiles were cool against her stomach as she slithered along the corridor, the door at the end already open waiting for her. Rows of dusty, glass spheres were perched on the shelving that carried on upwards and on every side into darkness, the only light came from a wand bobbing ahead of her. Someone was guarding what she wanted- no, what she needed. They would have to be dealt with.

As she approached, the man turned to face her. His blue eyes widened in surprise, beads of sweat beginning to trail downwards from his orange hairline. She geared herself to strike as his mouth dropped open in shock, venom beading in her fangs.

She struck first in his thigh, relishing the taste of blood as her fangs cut through cloth and skin. The man shuddered as he fell to the floor, blood gushing from her first wounds. Her tongue flicked out, she could taste the fear coming off him in waves. She reared to strike again, hoping to gut him. His hand was in the way however, and she hissed angrily as she only bit into his wrist.

“Holly!” A voice interrupted her victory, a pair of hands grabbing her shoulder and shaking her.

Holly yelled as she jerked awake. Her sheets were twisted around her and her top was soaked in sweat. Ronnie and Professor McGonagall had concern written across their faces as they looked down on her.

“I, what?” Holly grasped for words as she was lifted from her bed. “Mr Weasley- snake.”

“What about dad?” Ronnie’s voice was laden with worry as they made their way to the door.

“Miss Weasley, let us take your friend to the headmaster’s office before we try to ascertain the events,” Professor McGonagall sounded anxious as they headed down the steps.

Holly barely paid attention as she was walked to Professor Dumbledore’s office, her feet stumbling to stay upright.

Professor Dumbledore was pacing in his office when they entered, he hurried over to sit Holly in a seat by the table covered in magical instruments.

“Minerva, am I right to assume this to be an emergency,” he said, the usual twinkle of his blue eyes noticeably subdued.

“Indeed, Albus,” she readjusted her tartan dressing gown. “It appears that Miss Potter here saw something occurring to a member of the Order.”

Professor Dumbledore nodded as he turned to Holly. “Holly, can you tell me what happened?”

“I-It’s Mr Weasley, professor,” she replied shakily. “Voldemort’s snake, a-attacked him. I think he was guarding something.”

“Phineas, wake up,” Professor Dumbledore had turned to one of the sleeping portraits. “Get to your other painting in Grimmauld Place, inform whoever is there that Arthur Weasley is gravely injured guarding the artefact, and that his children shall arrive shortly by portkey,” he said, before turning to Professor McGonagall. “Minerva, it would be best that the remaining Weasley children be brought here.”

“I shan’t be long, Albus,” she said as she sped from the room.

Holly sat, anxiously fidgeting her fingers whilst Ronnie sat down beside her, rubbing her long nose nervously. It felt like an age before Ginny arrived, and Holly couldn’t help but feel that the other portraits in the room were pretending to sleep. Once or twice she would catch one staring at her, only for the subject to snore loudly.

Ginny was shaken when she arrived with Professor McGonagall’s comforting hand on her shoulder.

“What’s going on?”

“All will be made clear soon, child,” said Professor Dumbledore kindly. “You and your sister are to travel to Grimmauld Place,” he picked up a silver goblet, which glowed blue briefly before he handed it to Ronnie. “I will arrange for your things to follow you tomorrow morning.”

Once they had left, Professor Dumbledore turned back to Professor McGonagall.

“By now, Desquin will not doubt be aware that something is afoot and will be on his way to this office, I trust you can stall him long enough for me to ask a few questions of Holly?”

“It would be my pleasure, Albus,” she replied.

“Professor,” Holly began.

“In this dream, where were you, standing beside the victim, or above him?” Professor Dumbledore asked calmly, pacing in front of her.

“N-neither, professor,” Holly replied. “I-I was the snake.”

“I see, so it would be appropriate to say you felt everything the snake felt as well?” He appeared reluctant to look her in the face.

Before Holly could answer however, the door opened for Snape.

“Headmaster, you sent for me,” he said.

“Ah Severus, yes, I’m afraid we can wait no longer,” Professor Dumbledore replied.

“You were right, Albus, thankfully our people arrived before the Aurors and Arthur is being taken to St Mungo’s as we speak,” Phineas’s painting had returned. “The wounds are severe, but it seems he will live.”

Holly felt a surge of anger course up her spine, it was hot and frothed at the thought of being ignored.

“Can it wait for the morning?” Snape asked coolly.

“Look at me!” Holly yelled angrily.

Professor Dumbledore whipped around to face her, and Holly could feel the eyes of all the portraits as well as Snape boring into her. The anger left her as quickly as it had arrived, leaving Holly shaking and frightened by how loud her voice had sounded in her ears.

“W-what’s happening to me?” She asked wide-eyed.

“No, it cannot, my old friend,” Professor Dumbledore answered Snape.

“Very well,” said Snape. “Miss Potter, if you will come with me,” he said, taking Holly by the arm.

Holly stumbled after him down to the dungeons, feeling more than a little self-conscious about wearing shorts and a vest drenched in cold sweat. The feeling only worsened as Snape ushered her into a classroom, the chill of the dungeons quickly seeping in.

He drew Holly a chair beside a table stacked with various jars, pots and vials filled with potions ingredients. She shivered away from the worms slithering in their jar.

“It has been hypothesised that a connection exists between your mind and that of the Dark Lord,” Snape began. “Your vision tonight has confirmed this, though it would appear the Dark Lord remains ignorant of such a connection for the time being.”

“C-connection, as in he could read my mind?” Holly asked.

“The mind is not a book to be picked and leafed through on a whim, Miss Potter, you will see how in these lessons” he rolled his eyes. “In the past, He often took great pleasure from torturing victims by unravelling their minds, extracting the last ounce of pain before killing them. I am to teach you Occlumency, a method by which you will be able to shield your mind from attacks from a Legilimens such as myself, placing your treasured memories behind mental barriers whilst presenting only thoughts you wish to be accessible to the fore.

“To do this, you must empty your mind, compartmentalise your thoughts and erect mental blocks to trains of thoughts leading to memories you wish to protect,” he continued. “Give yourself a few moments to do this.”

Holly blanched, how was she supposed to block off enough memories? She didn’t want Snape to see any of her thoughts, but how could she block off even one?

 _“Legilimens!”_ Snape’s incantation caught Holly off guard, and she felt herself falling. A kaleidoscope of flashing images sped past her eyes, meeting Ronnie for the first time, Terence’s body lying lifeless on the ground, her parents in the Mirror of Erised.

The pain of the landing shot through Holly, jolting her from the attack. She had tumbled off her chair in surprise.

“What did I just say about emptying your mind, Miss Potter?” Snape lazily asked.

“You didn’t give me any warning,” Holly countered.

“And neither will the Dark Lord,” Snape reminded her. “We will try this a few more times.”

Grumbling, Holly sat back down on the chair.

While she was now ready for Snape’s attacks, it seemed she was incapable of stopping him from seeing things he shouldn’t. It was as if the defences were akin to flimsy fences, and Snape easily battened them down before going on to select a memory of hers. By the time he deemed they had finished, Holly was even more exhausted than when she had begun.

Unfortunately for her, Snape escorted her back to Gryffindor Tower. Before she could enter, he gave her homework.

“Miss Potter, as far as anyone is aware, you are taking remedial potions classes, the times of which you will be informed in the next term,” he said sternly. “As for any homework, if you wish to improve, you will need to practice emptying your mind every night before bed; it will make our lessons immeasurably easier for the both of us. Is that understood?”

Holly nodded stiffly, more than ready for her head to hit the pillows.

When she returned to the fifth year girls’ dormitory, a note lay on her pillow.

_A member of the Order will be waiting for you at Hogsmeade station. Act as if you are taking the Hogwarts Express so as not to arouse the Inquisitor’s suspicion._

Professor McGonagall’s crisp handwriting informed her.


	15. Sirius

**Sirius**

Sirius was sat alone when Professor Dumbledore came to visit, Molly having taken her children to St Mungo’s to visit Arthur. Sat at the dining table, nursing a fresh mug of tea between her hands, she read over the last letter she had received from Holly. A visit to several Muggle sports and clothing shops had resulted in her sending several sets of more appropriate clothes, it seemed the least she could do if she was telling her goddaughter that a fitness regimen would help her in Defence.

 A knock at the door broke her train of thought, prompting her to take a sip of her tea before answering. Albus Dumbledore was dressed in an azure blue velvet suit as was his habit when he travelled in Muggle areas. While it undoubtedly attracted looks, it was less conspicuous than his robes. It was rare for him to visit, and so Sirius prepared herself for bad news. A quick glance at his face, and the twinkle in his blue eyes quickly relaxed her.

“Albus, come on in,” she said. “Tea? The kettle’s only just boiled.”

“Why thank you, Sirius, that would be delightful,” he replied as he stepped into the foyer. “Good news deserves a good brew.”

“And what good news might this be?” She asked as she poured some tea into a mug decorated with frolicking gnomes.

“I’m sure you will recall Amelia Bones from your school days,” said Dumbledore, taking a seat. “Thank you,” Sirius placed his mug in front of him.

“I kept trying to get her and Remus together,” Sirius smirked. They had always seemed a good match, Remus with his thoughtfulness and Amelia’s strong sense of morality, though the former adamantly disagreed. This was even after Sirius had locked them in a broom cupboard together, even if they had emerged with ruffled hair and clothes. “She’s working in the Department for Magical Law Enforcement now isn’t she?”

“Indeed, and her morals are just as strong as when you tried to “set her up” with your unknowing friend,” said Dumbledore, sipping his tea. “Mmm, excellent brew, my dear,” he brushed his long, silver beard with one hand before continuing. “I’ve just come from a meeting with her regarding you as a matter of fact. I drew her attention to your imprisonment in Azkaban without due process, a fact that greatly vexed her.”

Sirius nearly dropper her own tea in shock. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” Her voice trembled.

“My dear, a hearing has been arranged for the end of July,” Dumbledore nodded, his eyes twinkling merrily. “You will be questioned under Veritaserum, with additional witness testimonies from Holly and her friends. Madam Bones has said she will oversee the hearing herself to ensure justice remains unobstructed.”

A crash alerted Sirius to the smashed mug and spilt tea at her feet. Ignoring the mess, she rushed over to Dumbledore, enveloping him in a hug.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” Sirius heard herself babbling.

Dumbledore patted her back. “Not to worry my dear, it was only the right thing for me to do.”

Pulling from the embrace, Sirius wiped a tear from her eyes.  Once she cleared her name, she would be able to live a normal life. Luxuries, such as going outside, would be open to her once again. She could even adopt Holly, and be the godmother she had promised James and Lily.

“Unfortunately, while Madam Bones has agreed to this hearing, she cannot change official Ministry policy,” said Dumbledore with a sigh. Sirius noticed some of the joy had left his eyes. “So you will need to continue as you have been, lest you are caught by the Aurors and returned to prison. Such a development would needlessly complicate matters.”

Sirius nodded her understanding. It would be difficult, but for Holly’s sake, she felt prepared for another seven months in the house.

“I’m gonna send her a letter right away, Holly needs to hear about this,” Sirius said abruptly, turning to go up to her desk.

“Oh, I wouldn’t bother with that, Sirius,” said Dumbledore calmly, making her pause halfway out of the kitchen.

“Why’s that?”

“Because Holly is on her way here as we speak,” he replied. “Nymphadora is escorting her here, and I am certain she would rather hear about this from you directly.”

)(

_Dear Padfoot,_

_Thanks for the broom supplies you sent me, I’ll be putting them to good use. But next time, do you mind sending me those Muggle magazines separately, I had a real hard time explaining them to my parents when they fell out of their wrapping. I’ll Floo you later, I’ve got a few ideas for our project._

_Hugs,_

_Prongs_

Sirius read the letter a once again.

Professor Dumbledore had left soon after delivering his good news, leaving Sirius up to her own devices. She had quickly found herself sat on her bed, pulling out a box of old letters from her school days that had miraculously survived her mother’s purge after she had left when she turned sixteen. Leafing through them brought a strange rush of emotions, it as if she was fifteen again, the letters from her friends providing comfort in a house of bigotry.

_Dear Padfoot,_

_Hope your holidays are going well, or at least as well as they can in your house. Have you got an invitation from Prongs? He seemed really excited in his last letter to me, so I assumed you’d been invited as well. Hopefully I can come, my mum’s not doing great though, so I might have to miss out this year. In any case, if we’re both going, can we agree to stop him banging on out Lily Evans for once? I’m not sure how much more I can him worshipping her every breath._

_Thanks for the shaving kit, I showed my mum and she thought it was hilarious._

_Hopefully see you for the New Year,_

_Moony_

In the end, Remus hadn’t been able to attend James’s New Year’s party, missing their friend’s change of tack concerning Lily. It seemed that his low expectations of a positive reply to his advances during their fifth year had morphed into disillusionment. Though Lily had been in attendance, James had kept his distance and begun seeing a Hufflepuff, Daisy Abbot.

Not that it had mattered anyway, Sirius thought to herself as she picked up a photo album handmade by Lily. Almost a year later, James and Lily had become an item.

_Sirius,_

_I know we haven’t always seen eye to eye, I’m hoping we can change that. So I made this photo album for you to put memories, even ones excluding the witch that stole your Prongs from you._

_Lily_

Sirius smiled at the note, she and Lily had formed a strong bond after James began dating Lily. It had seemed natural, being the only girls in the group.

Flicking through the album, Sirius felt a sad smile form on her face. Grins and smiling faces greeted her in each photo, from a picture of herself with Remus and James in their fourth year, to one of James standing with her, his so-called “Best Woman”, on his wedding day.


	16. Holly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight delay to my posting this chapter, I was feeling a bit like a military academy yesterday, bits of me kept passing out.

**Holly**

The stark sterility of the waiting room contrasted with the entrance to St Mungo’s, disguised as a boarded-up Muggle clothes shop. While Mrs Weasley gave her details to the secretary, Holly took in the scene. A row of chairs was placed opposite an enchanted window that showed a rolling mountain vista, likely made to soothe more agitated patients and visitors. At one end of the room, a coffee table was stacked with various books and magazines, the other had a small play area, in which a toddler played in its ball pit, closely watched by an anxious father.

A few people were sat waiting their turn, a witch with a small birch sapling growing from her head, evidently the victim of a charm gone awry, an elderly wizard who sneezed into an extremely dirty handkerchief, and a young wizard, whose rabbit ears poked through his mane of brown hair. The rabbit-eared wizard happily munched on an oversized carrot in his lap.

“This way,” Mrs Weasley’s voice brought Holly back to the reason she was here. The Weasley matriarch led them out of the waiting room and into the Spartan corridor beyond.

Holly wasn’t quite sure how to feel about her visit. On the one hand, she wanted to see if Mr Weasley was alright, however thoughts of guilt swanned around her mind like eels. Memories of the dream returned to Holly in flashes, serving to underline her feeling responsible in some way for his predicament.

These thoughts were interrupted when Holly entered the ward behind Ronnie. Mr Weasley was sat up in bed, reading a copy of _Le Monde Magique_ when they approached his bed. He folded the newspaper and placed it on his bedside table on noticing their arrival.

“Oh, hello dear, how are you?” He asked jovially. “How is everyone?”

“No dad, we’re supposed to ask that question,” Fred said jokingly.

“You’re not allowed to reverse the roles,” added George.

“We’re doing fine, Arthur,” Mrs Weasley rolled her eyes. “We came to see how you were faring.”

“Much better, thank you,” he beamed. “Ah Holly,” his eyes locked onto her hiding behind Fred and George, prompting her to step up to the side of the bed. “I’m glad you’re here, I wanted to thank you in person, if it weren’t for you, well I wouldn’t be here today,” he said gratefully.

“Oh, it’s- thanks Mr Weasley,” Holly stammered. She hated being put on the spot, and found herself fidgeting her hands. “I’m just glad you’re ok,” she said lamely.

Mr Weasley smiled, picking up on her discomfort.

“Arthur, the healer said yesterday it would take you weeks to heal, yet here you are reading a paper,” Mrs Weasley said slyly, suspicion laden in her voice. “Is there something you feel you ought to tell me?”

Mr Weasley’s ears reddened, looking akin to a deer caught in the headlights. “Ah, yes well- you see, I can explain.”

“Oh this’ll be good,” Ronnie said quietly, a grin playing on her lips.

“You had best hope you do, Arthur.”

“Well, you’ll remember how the healer was having trouble getting my wounds to close with his spells, ointments and poultices?” He began nervously. “I remember seeing pictures of some of the treatments Muggle doctors use to close serious wounds, you see they stitch the wound shut.”

“And I suppose you thought this would work for you?” Mrs Weasley asked sceptically.

“We should probably leave them to it,” Ronnie whispered to Holly, tugging on her jumper sleeve.

Allowing Ronnie to lead her and Ginny out of the ward, Holly glanced back. Mrs Weasley appeared to have become angry at her husband’s apparently reckless experiment in self-medication, whilst Fred and George had pulled up chairs to watch the show.

They trudged down the corridor aimlessly, unsure where to go next. Ginny’s cry of shock brought Holly’s attention to the door they had passed. A woman had her face pressed up against its glass, her nose bent at an odd angle.

“Merlin, is that who I think it is?” Ginny asked incredulously.

“Lockhart!” Ronnie gasped.

She was wearing a white dressing gown as she figured out how to open the door, but the wavy blonde hair and gleaming white teeth were the same.

“Why hello,” said Lockhart. “Are you lot here for some autographs? I can do joined-up writing now, you know.”

“I thought you obliviated her,” Holly turned to Ronnie. “She definitely sounds like Lockhart.”

Lockhart was already busy leading Ginny by the hand into the ward. Glancing quickly at each other, Holly and Ronnie followed. Lockhart’s bed was easily identifiable by the large number of flowers, cards and other gifts piled on her bedside table.

“Ah, Gladys Cuthbertson,” she said, picking up a pink envelope before tossing it to the side and sweeping all the cards, gift and flowers from dedicated fans onto the floor with a crash. “A lovely lady who keeps writing to me asking when I’m next going to write a book. I can’t for the life of me remember what she’s talking about, but she seems lovely all the same.”

Holly snorted.

“So, a signed photo for you and your two friends is it?” Lockhart asked, opening a drawer to take out three photographs. Grabbing a pen on her bed, she began her task; meticulously dotting her _i_ s after signing each picture.

“Gillian, I didn’t know you had guests,” a portly female healer bustled over to them, smiling genially.

“Oh we’re not gu-” Holly began, only for Lockhart to shove one of the photographs into her hands. Lilies on a pond were being visited by bees underneath Lockhart’s disjointed but loopy handwriting.

“Oh, it’s wonderful that you came, it’s been such a long time for poor Gillian and I,” the healer crooned gently, patting Lockhart on the shoulder, who beamed in appreciation. “We’re hoping she might soon start to remember who she is, came to us after falling victim to a seriously powerful memory charm.”

Ronnie coughed loudly, saying something about how they should let Lockhart rest. Holly, meanwhile, was distracted by the sight of an elderly woman wearing a hat with a stuffed falcon perched atop it. Trailing behind her, Neville Longbottom.

“Say good bye, Gillian,” the healer told Lockhart.

“Good bye,” she said happily.

“Right yeah, see ya around,” Holly said distractedly, pulling Ronnie and Ginny away as she led them after Neville and his grandmother.

The pair were halfway down the corridor when Holly called after them.

“Neville,” she called.

The boy stopped and turned around slowly, his face betraying his trepidation.

“Hey guys,” he said, waiting for them to come up to him.

“Neville, are you going to introduce me to your friends?” The elderly woman asked impatiently. “Or am I to do it all myself?”

“Er no nan, these are my friends, Holly, Ronnie and Ginny.”

“Evelyn Longbottom,” she introduced herself. “It is good to meet you at last, my Neville speaks most highly of you three, says you are all in the same Defence club.”

“Oh thanks,” said Holly brightly. “Yeah we’re in the DA, after classes club.”

“Well I am most pleased that someone is teaching my Neville some proper defensive magic Miss Potter, unlike that toad the Ministry forced Professor Dumbledore to hire,” she said, her thin lips pressed into a tight smile. “Neville says you have been very helpful in teaching him to master disarmaming and stunning, the results were most impressive.”

“You showed your nan what we’ve been learning in the DA?” Ronnie asked Neville.

“Nan wanted to see what I was talking about,” a hint of pride was evident in his voice when he answered.

“Of course, I- Oh what is it now Alice?” Mrs Longbottom cut herself off. A young woman, who bore a striking resemblance to Neville with her round chin, was coming towards them, clutching her dressing gown shut. She ignored Mrs Longbottom and the rest of them and placed an empty sweet wrapper in Neville’s outstretched hand. “Oh, very well. Neville, you will bin that before we leave,” she told him.

“Thanks mum,” said Neville quietly, nonchalantly slipping it into his pocket.

The woman nodded absentmindedly, her eyes seeming to be in another world, before turning back the way she had come, humming softly to herself.

“I’m sorry Nev, I never knew,” said Holly softly.

“Yeah, that’s rough,” Ginny added.

“What do you mean, never knew?” Mrs Longbottom asked incredulously. “Has Neville not told you?” They shook their heads. “His parents, my son Frank and his wife Alice, were Aurors, members of Dumbledore’s Order of the Phoenix in fact,” she said proudly. “After Voldemort fell, Death Eaters tortured them looking for him, and so they-”

“Went insane,” finished Neville.

“That’s horrible,” said Ginny.

“Quite,” Mrs Longbottom agreed. “I’m sure Neville has inherited their fighting spirit however, so I’m glad he has friends like you. Come along Neville, we mustn’t be late, or your uncle Alfie will have a fit.”

“Bye Nev,” said Holly as he was led away by his grandmother.

)(

Mr Weasley was discharged on Christmas Day, joining everyone for lunch. Mrs Weasley had clearly accepted his unconventional treatment and seemed to be making the most of his presence to be the gracious organiser of Christmas events. After Fred and George had incinerated the Christmas pudding, forcing everyone to have muffins instead, she ushered them all into the living room to unwrap their presents.

The look of surprise on Sirius’s face upon receiving her very own Weasley jumper was only matched by Ronnie’s disappointment at Kreacher’s disgust at his own present.

“Ah I wouldn’t worry about it Ronnie, Kreacher’s never been one for receiving gifts,” Sirius said consolingly, giving her a pat on the shoulder.

In the afternoon, Remus, Tonks and Kingsley Shacklebolt came to celebrate and Mrs Weasley passed around the cookies she and Ginny had baked the day before. Ginny came around with her plate of cookies while Holly, Ronnie and Hamish were discussing how best to incorporate some of the manoeuvres described in Holly’s new Broom book, making sure Holly took a particularly nicely decorated one.

Snape came shortly before dinner, the only indication of festivity being the pair of Christmas mittens he placed on a sofa. He seemed out of place amongst all the tinsel and floating stockings, like a fish out of water.

Unfortunately for Holly, it meant he had come for an Occlumency lesson, and she was sure he would know she hadn’t prepared.

Half an hour in the drawing room was enough to convince Holly that she should at least try to practice before sleep. Snape was at least helpful enough to give her a list of pointers regarding breathing and calming exercises, rather than just snide comments, so when he had left, and it was time for the evening meal, Holly felt a little hopeful she could master the basics.

)(

Boxing Day was a quieter affair, even with a near-constant rotation of visitors in the kitchen and living room. Holly, Hamish and Ronnie decided to stick to the upper floors, content to roam and explore the rooms when Heracles joined them. After a while, Holly left the three of them as they went downstairs to coax Fred and George to disclose their latest product.

Lost in thought, Holly found herself in one of the smaller rooms examining the intricate tapestry along its four walls. The ends of its numberless branches were perches for names, many of them sounding familiar to Holly.

_Sirius Black_

Of course, a family tree of Sirius’s family. It was, after all, her childhood home.

And I never knew about this, Holly thought angrily. Thanks to the Ministry’s incompetence, Holly hadn’t had the chance to get to know her godmother as she should have.

“These are some nice tapestries,” said Ginny from the doorway, causing Holly to leap a foot in the air in surprise. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. Any reason you’re mooching on your own?”

“It’s ok,” said Holly. “I just wanted some time on my own for once.”

“Yeah, this time of year is always hectic,” Ginny nodded.

“I dunno, I’m trying, but it’s not as if I can easily explain what it’s like having Voldemort in your head,” she admitted.

“So you didn’t consider that I’ve been in the same place?” Ginny asked sardonically. “He was in my mind too Holly, don’t think I’ve forgotten my possession.”

Holly kicked herself for being so stupid; how could she not have remembered Ginny’s trauma?

“Ginny, I’m so sorry,” Holly apologised.

“It’s alright Holly, with everything that’s been going on it’s understandable that you’d forget,” she waved away Holly’s words. “But I am here if you need someone,” she added, looking down at her feet.

“Thanks,” Holly smiled. “And yeah, this tapestry is amazing.”

Ginny snorted. “Smooth segway, Holly, very smooth.”

“Whatever,” Holly rolled her eyes as she returned to following the branches.

“I was being serious,” said Ginny abruptly. “About being here if you need me,” Holly turned to face. She was speaking to her shoes, her ears reddening. “I know you only see me as Ronnie’s little sister, but I’ve grown up now.”

“What are you saying?” Holly asked slowly.

“I’m saying, that I like you,” Ginny was as red as a tomato when she looked up. “As in I _like_ like you.”

Holly froze; this was the last thing she had expected to hear. “Ginny- I should go,” she sped from the room, nearly crashing into Sirius on her way out.  

“Woah, what’s all the rush?” She asked.

“I- it’s nothing,” Holly replied quickly.

“Well, I’ve been meaning to talk to you anyway,” said Sirius matter-of-factly. “Let’s go up to my room,” she led Holly along the corridor and up another flight of stairs.

Sirius’s room was a covered in posters, most of them from Muggle magazines, depicting motorbikes and various celebrities from her youth. Holly blushed on seeing several of the shirtless men leaning against surfboards.

Sirius closed the door quietly behind her before turning to Holly.

“So, I’ve been meaning to tell you sooner, but figured it could wait ‘til today,” she said, plopping down on her bed and patting the spot beside her. “But Dumbledore spoke to Madam Bones, who’s the head of Magical Law Enforcement, and persuaded her to arrange a hearing for me to clear my name.”

Holly’s eyes widened like saucers as she sat down. “You must be joking.”

“I do like to joke, but I’m being serious,” she shook her head. “It’s going to be held at the end of July, and you’ll be called as a witness.”

Before Sirius could say anything else, Holly threw her arms around her in a tight embrace.

“You and me both, kiddo,” said Sirius after they had composed themselves.

“So that means you won’t have to hide anymore?”

“So long as I’m found innocent,” she chuckled. “But yeah, I’ll be able to live my life normally. That includes doing right by my friends and looking after their daughter,” she continued. “If you’ll have me, that is,” there was a note of trepidation in Sirius’s voice.

Holly looked into her eyes, which wavered back in response. “Of course, I’d love to. I mean, how cool would that be?”

“Brilliant,” Sirius cried. “Oh, I mean, yeah that’d be cool. Gotta keep up my cool godmother persona,” she added nonchalantly. Holly laughed. “So, once my name’s cleared, you could live with me, I’d be able to legally adopt you, if that was what you wanted,” the fear had returned to her voice.

“Sirius, that sounds incredible,” Holly said earnestly.

“Well, that’s me satisfied,” Sirius smiled, rubbing the faint scar that ran down her cheek. “But how are you holding up?”

Holly sighed, looking down at her hands in her lap. “I dunno, Sirius,” she admitted. “I just had Ginny come out and tell me she still has feelings for me, that’s why I was running when you caught me.”

“Romantic feelings, I take it?” Sirius said knowingly, drawing Holly in and draping an arm around her shoulders. Holly nodded. “And you didn’t know how to respond to this because you’ve never seen Ginny in the same way, or thought she might feel that way?” She nodded again. “There’s no easy way of addressing this Holly. A couple of things you have to take into account, telling someone how you feel, particularly someone you admire, takes guts. The other thing is that I doubt Ginny has discussed her sexuality with many people, so her telling you both was bearing some very personal parts of herself to you.”

“But I’m just Holly, I’m no one special,” Holly protested.

“Not to you maybe, but to a lot of people, you are a role model,” Sirius continued gently. “And to Ginny, that admiration seems to have evolved into romantic attraction.”

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Right now, let me take the lead,” she said firmly, brushing Holly’s hair over her shoulder. “At the moment, Ginny is afraid, both of what you might say to her, and what you might tell others. You need to be truthful to her, tell her I know what she said,” Sirius explained.

“And that telling me was brave?”

“Definitely,” Sirius affirmed. “Put those facts on the table, because she deserves to know that. Then you can move on to ensuring it’s not a rejection of friendship.”

“What about you?”

“I won’t be telling anyone else about this, these things are for Ginny to tell,” she said. “But if Ginny needs someone with experience who won’t judge, she can come to me for advice.”

Holly looked up at Sirius. “You have experience?”

“Not quite the same but, playing for both teams can be just as hard,” she replied. “Now, seeing as we’re here, is there anything else that Babushka Sirius can help you with?” She asked, leaping off her bed and throwing a scarf around her head.

“Sirius, this is your house?”

“Yes, my parents’ house to be precise, but now mine,” she sighed. “Offering it to Dumbledore for the Order has been the most useful thing I could do up to now. Just when I thought I was rid of the place,” she pulled the scarf off her head as the previous levity left as soon as it had arrived.

“Bad memories?”

“My parents, while not Death Eaters, were blood purists, and I’m sadly related to a few,” Sirius explained, removing the scarf. “I moved out as soon as I could, ended up with your father. The Potters were always happy to have me.”

“I saw on the tapestry, your name had been scorched,” said Holly tentatively.

“Yes, that would have been my mother, charming woman,” she said wryly. “But yes, I lived with your father until I could find a place of my own. Your parents were just as gracious, allowing me to stay with them after I was evicted by a former partner,” Sirius’s eyes, that had taken on a glossy sheen, now returned to the present. “I see so much of them in you Holly, you are so very alike.”

Ordinarily, Holly would have beamed at such a compliment, but at that moment, she only felt as if she would betray them if she didn’t tell Sirius the truth.

“I’m not so sure,” Holly smiled weakly. “Sirius, when I was watching Mr Weasley get attacked, I-I was the snake. And afterwards in Dumbledore’s office, there was a m-moment when I want-ed t-to...,” she trailed off. “This connection I have with Voldemort, what if it’s more than just a connection. I just- I don’t know how I feel Sirius, I mean generally. One moment I might be really happy, like when I’m teaching the DA, next thing I know I’m crying and then I’m angry, like really angry. It’s as if it’s anger at something completely unrelated to what’s just happened. What if I’m becoming more like him, after everything that’s happened, something’s gone wrong?”

Faster than Holly could blink, Sirius was knelt before her. “Now I want you to listen to me very carefully, Holly,” said Sirius earnestly, taking hold of both her hands. “You are not a bad person, you are an undeniably good person to whom bad things have happened. What you’re describing, being sad, angry, they are not a sign of weakness, they show you that you are human like the rest of us.

“Besides, the world isn’t a black and white affair, we each contain both light and dark within us. What matters is the part we choose to act on,” said Sirius. “You understand?”

Holly nodded.

“Here’s an idea, how’s about tomorrow we go out and do something?”

“But you’re still wanted by the Ministry,” said Holly.

“True, but Hamish told me he’d just perfected a shrinking spell,” she said sagely. “I can be a pocket Sirius,” she chuckled to Holly’s astonishment. “So, where do you want to go?”

It took Holly a few moments to respond, the audacity of the plan was absurd.

“I er well,” she paused. “Well I suppose I could do with a haircut.”

“Brilliant,” Sirius leapt to her feet. “We can do it after the New year’s, so it’ll be symbolic that way. I’ll see if Tonks can book us somewhere.”

)(

Holly examined her new bob cut in the mirror, occasionally brushing off the odd hair that came to settle on her nose, cut hairs that clung on shook loose by her examination. It was a radical change from her previous style of a single long, loose plait over her shoulder, framing her face rather more symmetrically. The rear was still quite long, coming down to an inch above her shoulders. However, the fringe had been trimmed, leaving Holly with less hair to fall into her eye. It was great. She would no longer be forced to tie her hair into a bun if she wanted to play Quidditch or be at risk of Parvati Patil’s ministrations whenever anything remotely formal appeared on the calendar. Holly couldn’t help but feel this suited her far more.

“Mind if I come in?” Hamish asked, pushing the bathroom door open. “I need to shave.”

“Oh sure, sorry got carried away,” said Holly.

“No worries,” he grinned. “It’s a good cut.”

“You reckon?”

“Oh aye, suits ye,” he plopped a razor and other equipment by the sink. “Not like this,” he gestured to the stubble creeping around his chin and jaw.

“I dunno Hamish, I think it suits you,” said Holly after a moment.

“Ye think?”

Holly, unsure why she came out with that, ploughed on. “Definitely, makes you look more mature,” she said. “In a good way, that is,” Holly added quickly.

Hamish scratched his chin absent-mindedly. “I guess I could let it grow a wee bit longer, to see how it turns out.”

“And if it doesn’t, then you can always shave it off,” Holly finished.

Ok, I’ll do it,” he said decisively. “But it’s on your head if I look stupid,” he grinned.

“Oh whatever,” Holly snickered as they left the bathroom. “It’ll be fine.”


	17. Heracles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looking after young neices and nephews and a late train back to my flat does hamper me being able to post a chapter to my schedule.

**Heracles**

“I mean, I’m trying my best to do the exercises, but I’m not improving at all,” moaned Holly as they trudged down the snowy high street of Hogsmeade.

The end of January brought the first Hogsmeade weekend of the new term, and Heracles and his friends wandered aimlessly through the village. With Christmas over, the shops were significantly quieter, the end of year clientele attempting to stick to new year’s resolutions.

“But it’s just so hard to clear my mind with everything going on,” she continued.

“I know Holly, but it’s important you keep trying,” Heracles insisted for what felt like the tenth time that afternoon.

“Probably isn’t helping that Parvati and Lavender keep banging on about their latest makeup,” Ronnie remarked. “I’ll try to get them to shut up more often.”

Holly laughed. “That would be pretty handy to be honest. Not sure it’ll do much to keep my scar from burning though.”

“Your scar is hurting?” Heracles stiffened. “I thought Professor Snape’s lessons were supposed to be stopping that from happening?”

“They are,” Holly snapped back. “I can’t help it if Voldemort experiences strong emotions, can I? Besides, most of the time it’s not a problem.”

“Hey, is that Dean?” Ronnie asked abruptly.

The tall Gryffindor was walking out of the Three Broomsticks, a scarf wrapped tight against the biting cold. Beside him, a blond-haired witch with wide dreamy eyes allowed him to help her across an ice patch.

“With Luna Lovegood?” Holly added, distracted enough from her wallowing to notice the pair.

“Seems to be,” Heracles nodded.

They watched as, slipping and sliding, Dean and Luna crossed to street to Honeydukes.

)(

Heracles sighed. In front of him, the Daily Prophet was reporting the mass breakout of some of Azkaban’s most dangerous inmate, including the deranged Bellatrix Lestrange. As he expected, all of the escapees were known Death Eaters, though Fudge stubbornly claimed this as further proof of Sirius’s guilt.

In his hand was the second piece of bad news, a slip of parchment had been given to him by a timid Hufflepuff first year.

 

_He knows about your group, but not where and when. So, his minions have been directed to sleuth that out._

Heracles read over the note a second time. He had found it lying under his pillow after returning from Hogsmeade. A hot shower had warmed him on his return to Gryffindor Tower, clearing his mind from Holly and Ronnie’s gossip. Interesting as this development was, Heracles was more intrigued by Ginny’s behaviour since the beginning of the new term.

It was obvious to him that she still held feelings for Holly, her childhood admiration having morphed into a full-blown crush. That Holly hadn’t picked up on her longing stares seemed inexplicable to Heracles. However, something had happened over the Christmas holidays he wasn’t aware of, and now Ginny seemed to be avoiding Holly at all costs, moving to the opposite side of the Room of Requirements during DA meetings, or finding odd excuses to leave a situation when she joined.

Nevertheless, for the time being he had to focus on an appropriate response to the note. As Daphne pointed out, who the informant was didn’t matter, he just had to react effectively and trust the information to be genuine.

_Umbridge knows. Don’t talk about it unless alone with fellow members._

Heracles gave the fake galleon a squeeze to send the message.

“Thanks for the warning,” said Hamish from where he sat with Holly in front of the fire.

“No problem, best avoid speaking on front of Slytherins aside Daphne and her friends,” he nodded, pulling down his jumper sleeves.

“So anyway, what if we got some small animal to follow him around?” Hamish returned to his conversation with Holly.

“Like a niffler?” Holly asked, rewrapping her fluffy dressing gown.

“We don’t want somethin’ that’ll attack him to get some shiny pocketwatch,” replied Hamish rubbing his bearded chin thoughtfully. “What does he remind you of?”

“A toad,” said Heracles without glancing up from his book. The Ancient Runes essay wasn’t due for a month, but he wanted to get a headstart before going to the study group. Zacharias Smith was unbearable enough without being ahead on work.

“Brilliant, so we get a gaggle of toads to follow Umbridge around,” Holly grinned, her green eyes alive with glee.

“Holly, I hate to ask, but is this really going to help you clear your head?” Heracles asked sceptically.

“I dunno, but it’ll help me sleep,” she replied quickly.

“Well, just don’t get caught, Umbridge suspects you enough as it is.”

“Do ye take us for amateurs?” Hamish asked.

“You’re not the Weasley twins,” he answered, his attention returning to his book.

In the end, Hamish and Holly were complete professionals, Umbridge came down to breakfast the next day followed by a tide of leaping amphibians, none the wiser as to who had put them up to it. Worse, when he tried to banish them, Hamish’s charm caused each toad to copy itself, quickly doubling the number of croaking followers.

Heracles noted however, that the amphibian pilgrimage prompted Umbridge to redirect members of the Inquisitorial Squad to temporarily chasing off the toads. This gave them some breathing space from Crabbe and Goyle’s thunderous attempts to spy on them.

Umbridge’s retaliation, once the week of toads was over, appeared in the form of several new educational decrees. Not only was Zonko’s a banned shop, but now all visits to the Owlery had to be signed off by a member of the Inquisitorial Squad, and Heracles was supposed to leave an eight-inch gap between himself and any girl.

“Well, either he’s figured out it was us doin’ the schemin’, or it’s jus’ an excuse to spite people who had friends of the other gender,” Hamish suggested after Ancient Runes,

“I’d say the latter,” said Heracles. “It’s not as if I’m going to be reporting good spellwork.”

A smirk briefly crossed Hamish’s face.

In the weeks that followed, Hamish and Holly decided to remind Hogwarts of Umbridge’s new decrees through the medium of pranks. Heracles found himself serenaded between lessons by singing pamphlets that listed all the activities now banned, prompting laughter from some, and grumbling from those who had fallen foul of the list. For his part, Heracles couldn’t help but laugh at the stand Hamish set up at the weekend selling counterfeit “owl passes”. It was testament to his charisma that he had talked Dean, Luna, and Ginny into helping.

“Can I interest you in any owl passes, good sir?” Dean asked with mirth in his eyes.

Heracles snorted. “Why, I wasn’t aware you were a member of the illustrious Inquisitorial Squad.”

“Ah, you may have caught upon the nature of our business, so to speak,” Dean admitted.

“Well, if this is a black market, I’m afraid my duty as prefect compels me to end it,” he said regretfully.

“Hope you don’t close it before I get mine,” said Daphne, casually perusing the pamphlets and slips on the stand. “I’ve got a letter for my parents.”

“Oh, maybe I can help,” said Luna, drifting over towards Daphne.

“Actually, I was thinking Ginny might be able to help me,” she replied.

Heracles and Dean watched in amusement as Daphne dragged Ginny out of her conversation with Hamish to get her to explain each pass.

“But in all seriousness, probably a good idea if you close the stand before a grumpy prefect or member of the Squad shows up,” Heracles advised.

“I know,” said Dean, rubbing a hand over his tight curls. “Hamish said something about handing out the passes more discreetly anyway, it was Ginny’s idea to have a stand.”

The second week of February saw the Valentine’s feast interrupted by an indoor firework display. Out of the corner of his eye, Holly and Hamish could be seen giggling as the words “ _8 inches boys and girls”_ appeared over each table, descending into cackles as every couple leapt apart. Hamish’s laughter was only silenced when his own boyfriend gave him a withering stare.


	18. Hamish

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Need to stop making a habit of this :/

**Hamish**

It had been a few weeks since Hamish and Holly had begun their campaign of pranks against Umbridge in an effort to divert his attention from the DA’s whereabouts. Thankfully, they had only been caught once when they forgot to wear the Invisibility Cloak whilst setting up a public prank, and Professor McGonagall had been kind enough to carry out the detention herself rather than send them to Umbridge. Nevertheless, Umbridge remained ignorant of who was pranking him, and where they held DA sessions.

Unfortunately, between evening prank planning with Holly, going to the study group in his free periods, planning DA lessons with Holly and Ronnie and spending time with Iolo on the weekends, Hamish couldn’t find the time to help Hagrid with his lesson planning as he had promised. Instead, he was forced to visit him briefly at lunchtime with a scribbled list of suggestions for each year’s lessons and explain the progression, running late for a Potions lesson and earning himself another detention.

“Maybe I should slow down a wee bit,” he said to Holly as they watched the DA warming up.

“Maybe,” she said, her green eyes scanning over the practicing members

Over the past several weeks of the new term, the group had improved noticeably. Holly had become much more confident as a teacher, more willing to intervene when she saw bad technique, and happy to practice with anyone having particular difficulty when the rest were doing well. Neville’s confidence had also taken a boost, meaning it took far less time to master new spells. Of note, was the arrival of Seamus Finnegan to the group; he had looked uncomfortable at first, telling Holly that he had had a change of heart over the Christmas holidays, but now was quickly catching up with the rest of the group thanks to Dean and Luna’s careful explaining of flaws in his technique.

“Alright everyone, gather round,” called Holly, bringing the noise back down aside from the odd clatter of a fallen wand. The DA quietened down as they assembled in front of Holly. “So, a few people have been asking me when we’d learn to cast a Patronus,” a hush fell over the crowd. “And you all seem to be ready, you’ve learnt all the foundational, direct spellwork for defence.”

“Yes,” Ronnie grinned.

“I’m so excited for this,” said Dean, bobbing on his feet. Luna’s hand on his shoulder brought him back to Earth.

“Ok,” Holly cleared her throat, focusing attention back to her. “Now there are two important parts to this spell. The incantation, after me, is Expecto Patronum.”

“Expecto Patronum,” they repeated.

“The second is happiness, you need to find something that makes you feel truly happy,” she continued, brushing her green fringe out of her eyes. “Otherwise you’ll just be spouting nonsense. It can be a memory or even just a thought, like riding a broom. But whatever it is, you have to be sure it’s the happiest thing in your mind, and then concentrate on it,” she said seriously, eyes flashing. “So, does anyone want a demonstration before we start?”

Everyone raised their hands.

Rolling her eyes, Holly rolled up her shirt sleeves and loosened her tie.

“Ok, give me a bit of space,” she said dramatically, and the crowd parted for her. For a moment she stood poised with her wand outstretched, her eyes closed as she focused on whatever made Holly truly happy. _“Expecto Patronum!”_

A silvery-white hawk soared from the end of her wand and lazily glided around the room.

The gasps of delight and awe were more than enough to prompt Holly to give a bow as her Patronus faded into the air.

“Right, thanks, no really please, stop,” the applause died down as Holly regained control. “So, that was a fully-body Patronus, but shield charms can still be effective. Before you all can do that however, we’re gonna spend a few minutes trying to find that happy thought or memory.”

Hamish racked his brain, searching for something especially. Perhaps the time he had rode his broom with his friends? Or maybe when he had helped Hagrid finish his teaching plan in his third year? No, that had felt satisfying, but not happy. The same could be said for when he had successfully created his first spell, even if it had been mixed with some joy. He tried to trigger some happiness thinking about the times he spent with Iolo, yet only found himself feeling flustered. Why would he not feel happy about being with his boyfriend? Finally, his mind settled on when he and Holly saw the efforts of their pranking, allowing the memories of shared laughter in the common room afterwards wash over him alongside a suffused sense of happiness.

“Ok, that’s ten minutes, time to see if that thought is happy enough,” Holly called. “So make sure there’s space in front of you, and whenever you’re ready: _Expecto Patronum_ _!”_

Taking several deep breaths, Hamish drew his wand. Beside him, Neville had his eyes closed as he too took out his wand. Across from him, Hannah Abbot was imitating a constipated duck. Before he could laugh, he bit his tongue and closed his eyes.

 _“Expecto Patronum!”_ Hamish felt faint vibrations from his wand, something was happening. Opening his eyes briefly to see, he was disappointed by nothing. _“Expecto Patronum!”_

This time when he opened his eyes, Hamish was rewarded by wisps of silvery smoke emanating from the end of his wand, a faint rumbling in his chest.

“Great job, Hamish,” said Holly as she passed, giving him a nod of approval. “But focus more and it’ll get better,” she told him seriously, before moving onto Neville. “Hey Nev, if that memory isn’t happy enough, maybe just imagine a happy scenario.”

 _“Expecto Patronum!”_ Heracles’s voice cried, seconds later a raven fluttered around the room.

“Well done, Cles.”

Bolstered by Heracles’s efforts, Hamish returned to his task. He closed his eyes and concentrated on how he felt when he and Holly shared in the delight of a prank gone right, of when they had played Quidditch over the dunes of Arisaig.

 _“Expecto Patronum!”_ Once more, the rumbling in his chest resumed, though now with greater intensity; it spread along his arm and to his wand, so that when he opened his eyes, a wolf leapt from the end of his wand to join Heracles’s raven. 

There were several whoops as Ronnie’s beagle, Daphne’s lion, Dean and Luna’s seals, Ginny’s horse, and finally Neville’s lynx joined the fray.

“They key to maintain a corporeal Patronus, is focus; become distracted and they won’t be able to protect you,” Holly called from where she was helping Terry Boot’s technique.

Hamish returned his gaze to where his wolf was trotting along the periphery of the room. It did seem to be growing fainter. He focused once more on the happiness he felt when he and Holly had achieved something, and the wolf glowed with renewed vitality.

He was so entranced with keeping his wolf around, Hamish barely noticed the slip of parchment that had appeared in Heracles’s fingers. His concentration was only broken when Dobby appeared to pass on a message.

“Master Hamish, sir,” he said. “H-he is coming. Dobby was sent to warn you and Mistress Potter.”

“Hmm, what. Who Dobby, who is coming?” He asked distractedly.

“Umbridge,” said Heracles tersely, clutching the slip of parchment as he rushed past Hamish towards Holly and Ronnie. Hamish, feeling a few steps behind, tailed after him with Dobby. “Holly, he knows.”

The colour drained from Holly’s face.

“Shit. Dobby, can you get all the Ravenclaws back to their Tower?” Holly asked directly.

“Yes,” Dobby replied.

“All Ravenclaws over here,” Holly called, and Terry Boot led his friends to stand beside them. “Dobby is going to take you all back to your common room, any questions?” They all shook their heads. “Good, Terry, take his hand, everyone else can put a hand on Terry’s shoulder.”

Several seconds later, and the Ravenclaws were gone. That is except for Luna, who had stood resolutely beside Dean as this was happening. In any case, it still left the problem for what to do with those that remained.

“Can the room provide additional escape routes?” Heracles wondered aloud, only for them to notice several new doors. “Ones leading to each house’s common room?” The Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Slytherin sigils appeared over three of the doors.

“If the rest of you use those doors quick before he gets here that’d be great,” Ronnie shouted, starting a panic as Zacharias Smith led the charge to the Hufflepuff door.

“What about you lot?” Dean called.

“You lead the Gryffindors, Dean, we have to make sure he doesn’t find the room,” Holly replied, ushering them off.

Hamish glanced over to the Slytherin door, where Daphne was arguing with her sister Astoria about who would go first. The last Hufflepuff shut their door behind them, as Daphne pushed Astoria out.

Before Hamish could comment on the absurdity of the situation, the main door and the wall around it crumbled. Dust billowed inwards as he joined Holly, Ronnie, Heracles, Neville, Dean, Luna, Ginny, and Daphne to stand ready and poised. When it cleared, Umbridge had a smug grimace etched across his face, similar expressions on the Inquisitorial Squad and Filch, who held Hannah Abbot by the ear.

Umbridge sighed. “A pity I should find you among such company, Miss Greengrass. Your parents will be disappointed.”

Hamish looked to Holly, unsure what to do next.

“What are you waiting for? Let’s run!” She cried. _“Stupefy!”_

The red bolt struck Filch squarely in the chest, sending him flying, and prompting them to cast their own spells.

 _“Stupefy!”_ Hamish yelled, breaking into a sprint after Holly as Flint was felled.

Chancing a glance behind him, Hamish doubled down as he saw Theodore Nott on his tail. A flash was quickly followed by a bang as Nott send a hex over Hamish’s shoulder, smashing into the stone wall and showering him with chips of granite.

“Split up!” Holly’s voice floated after her, and Hamish dived behind the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy, thinking to go down the secret passageway.

However, before he could take two steps, Hamish felt himself frozen in place. Dracia Malfoy shook her head as she stepped into his field of view.

“Sorry about this Williams, much as I respect you, I’m afraid I have to do this,” her shoulders were drooped as she regarded him with her grey eyes.

There was a loud thump, and Hamish’s world went dark.

When he came to, he was sat slumped in one of the chairs of Professor Dumbledore’s study. Slowly lifting his head, Hamish could see Dean, Ginny and Ronnie were in a similar position, each with a member of the Inquisitorial Squad stood behind them. Holly and Heracles were seen to by Nott and Marcus Flint, whose smirking made Hamish want to greet his lunch again. Daphne, Luna, and Neville were being held by a burly-looking Auror in a brown trench coat, Daphne’s face was unreadable.

“So, you see, just as I predicted Cornelius, a training camp right under our noses,” Umbridge finished. He seemed, even more than usual, like a toad. His back was turned to the instrument-laden desk of Professor Dumbledore, who sat impassively behind it, as he finished his sermon to Fudge and the pair of Aurors flanking him.

“This is a very serious charge indeed, Desquin, I thank you for bringing this coup attempt to my attention,” sighed Fudge. “Regrettable it has come to this, Albus, but your charade has come to an end.”

“Yes, it would appear that you have uncovered my plans, Cornelius,” said Professor Dumbledore in a measured tone.

“How did you come by the information regarding this group, Umbridge?” Fudge asked.

“I’d known about the group’s existence for some time, Minister,” replied Umbridge, seemingly gleeful about retelling his version of events. “However, it took some digging on my part, and the good sense of Miss Edgecombe here to step forward and tell me when and where it met for its secret plotting.” Hamish turned his head, in the far corner of the room, the Ravenclaw fourth year had covered her hands with her face. “Unfortunately, after she had told me this, her face erupted with the affliction you may have witnessed already. Apparently, whoever had written the list of members had charmed it, so any divulging of the group’s secrets would have the word _sneak_ plastered across their face in vile pimples,” Marietta Edgecombe shuddered behind her hands, earning herself hard stares from Heracles, who had written the list.

“Shocking, and you say Dumbledore is behind this vile business?” Fudge glanced over his shoulder at Marietta.

“Sadly, Cornelius, I am,” said Professor Dumbledore with a sigh.

“Professor, you can’t be serious, you had nothing to do with this,” Holly protested.

“Silence, Kingsley, show her the evidence,” said Fudge in rebuke.

Kingsley Shacklebolt unfurled a familiar sheet of parchment. Above the list of names were emblazoned the words _Dumbledore’s Army._

“I am very serious, Holly,” Professor Dumbledore continued mildly, stroking his silvery beard as is nothing was wrong, and he was merely discussing the day’s soup. “I instructed Holly and her friends to form this group, and I alone am responsible for the group’s activities.”

“And now you’ve been caught,” said Fudge slyly. “Shacklebolt, Dawlish,” Kingsley and the burly Auror moved forward. “You will escort Dumbledore to Azkaban to await trial for conspiracy.”

“I had wondered why you brought these fine fellows, Cornelius, for a moment I thought they were for your own protection, what with me being a dangerous and unpredictable element,” Professor Dumbledore almost sounded amused as the pair approached his desk. “But it would appear that you have reached a slight snag in your arrangements, namely my willingness to go to Azkaban, of which there is none.”

The room was silent as Kingsley and Dawlish stopped in their tracks halfway up the stairs. Hamish chanced a glance at Daphne, her eyes had widened slightly as Hamish sent his attention around the rest of the room. Everyone’s eyes were fixed on what Dumbledore would do next.

“Enough of this,” Umbridge’s eyes bulged as his face reddened in anger. “Take him.”

Dawlish made to take hold of Dumbledore’s sleeve, but there was a loud bang, and he, Kingsley, Umbridge, Fudge, and the members of the Inquisitorial Squad were blown off their feet and unconscious.

Calmly, Professor Dumbledore got up from behind his desk and came down the short flight of stairs to join them.

“Much as I appreciate your sense of honour, Holly, I must ask you to look to Mr Granger and Miss Greengrass for subtlety,” he said, his blue eyes were devoid of their usual twinkle. “I assume you all had some encouragement from Miss Black, it was indeed a commendable exercise. Though I trust Mr Granger has ensured the effects of his charm will not last long, or I fear he may have scarred Miss Edgecombe.”

“Only a week, professor,” Heracles nodded.

“Good,” said Professor Dumbledore. “I don’t expect I shall be gone very long; however, I do recommend you all keep your wits about you, Fudge will use this as pretext to crack down hard. And Holly, as trying as they are, I hope you will continue your lessons with Professor Snape.”

Before any of them could reply, Fawkes the phoenix swooped down over Professor Dumbledore’s head. He grasped the bird’s feet, and the pair vanished in a flash of orange flame. This seemed to prompt the revival of Kingsley and Fudge’s party. Hamish pretended that he too had been rendered unconscious and shook his head to clear the cobwebs.

“Where did he go?” Fudge demanded as he got back to his feet, what was left of his hair mussed up.

“I don’t know Minister,” snarled Umbridge, the pair of men scanning the room. “You, Williams, where did Dumbledore go?”

“Me, professor?” Hamish feigned innocence. “Why, I’ve only jus’ come to meself. Dumbledore’s gone?”

This earned him Umbridge’s fat fist to his jaw. “Stupid boy,” Umbridge spat.

“Desquin, restrain yourself,” cautioned Fudge. “He’s just a child, any more outbursts and I may consider replacing you.”

“Of course, sorry Minister.”

“In the meantime, send your Inquisitorial Squad to search Hogwarts, they know the castle and its grounds far better than my Aurors do,” he said, before turning to Kingsley and Dawlish.

“I know you may not like him, Minister,” said Kingsley. “But you can’t deny, Dumbledore has got style.”

)(

As the weeks rolled by, Umbridge settled into his new position as headmaster. Professor Dumbledore’s office remained closed to him no matter how many times he brandished the letter from Fudge declaring him headmaster. Much to Holly and Hamish’s amusement, though the teachers ostensibly acquiesced to Umbridge’s authority, most were more than happy not to deal with their continued pranking campaign, leaving Umbridge to run about the school to put a stop to any pranks, even if they were occurring in front of a teacher.

“So sorry, headmaster,” said Professor Flitwick to a particularly tired and flustered Umbridge after he had put out a rather rude talking fire in Hamish’s Charms lesson. “But I wasn’t sure I had the correct authority to deal with this situation. I felt it better to leave it to you.”

However, while Holly was happy to engage in pranking Umbridge and the Inquisitorial Squad, something of the fire had gone out since the confrontation between Fudge and Dumbledore.

This was most obvious when it came time for the mass detention of all members of the DA. Umbridge sat at the front whilst everyone was made to write _All is well_ in his infamous blood quills. When Hamish emerged from the session, wrapping his hand in a bandage, Holly was surrounded by a heckle of former members asking what the next move was.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “And honestly, I don’t care.”

This prompted outrage from the group, who Holly waved off so she could join Hamish and Ronnie.

“Were ye bein’ serious back there?” Hamish asked, afraid of the answer.

“I don’t wanna play anymore,” she said, leading them back to the common room. “When I play, people get hurt and it gets us nowhere. So, I’m done.”

 Ronnie looked ready to counter Holly, but Hamish placed his other hand on her shoulder and shook his head.

)(

“So, that’s it’s best to keep the territorial beasts away from the lower years,” said Hamish, rubbing his beard thoughtfully. “Keep ‘em for the people tha’ have chosen the subject for their Newts.”

He was sat at the table in Hagrid’s hut as he said this, a mug of tea between his hands. Hagrid had suggested changes to his lesson plans, but Hamish was adamant he stuck to it.

“Aw, c’mon Hamish, wha’s the worse tha’ could ‘appen,” said Hagrid.

“Ye could have another Buckbeak-Malfoy debacle like in my third year,” he replied straightforwardly. “And this time, we won’t be able to help, and ye’ll end up fired, or worse,” he finished darkly. “Look, jus’ stick to this plan, how ye do the lessons is up to ye. It’s jus’ this year, then Umbridge’ll be gone.”

Hagrid sighed. “Oh alrigh’, I’ll stick to the plan. But only so lon’ as you keep an’ eye on Holly. I don’t want her gettin’ inteh danger like las’ year.”

“Don’t worry, Hagrid,” he snorted, finishing the tea before making his way to leave. “She’ll have someone keepin’ an eye on her. Good tea, I’ll see ye later.”

“Bye Hamish.”

As day turned into evening, Hamish found himself alone in the common room, nursing his scarred hand in a bowl of murtlap, when Holly barged in. Her face screamed perturbed, her button nose wrinkled in distress alongside her clouded, green eyes.

“Ye gonna tell me why ye’re lookin’ down?” Hamish asked.

“Snape ended our lessons,” she replied, a hand running through her fiery red hair. “I, s-saw something I wasn’t s-supposed to.”

“In his mind?”

Holly nodded.

“Do ye wanna talk about it?”

“I saw my father, Remus, Sirius and Wormtail,” she began, her voice shaking. “It- they were bullying Snape, when they were at school. My dad was a bully, Hamish, a bully.”

“So, I suppose pranking the Slytherin Quidditch team won’t cheer ye up then?”

“I know you mean well, but I can’t help feel that these pranks we’ve been pulling, what if that’s how we start. I mean what if my dad and Sirius started pranking people you could argue deserved it, and it got out of hand. Next thing you know, they’re bullies like the worst of them,” said Holly as she shook her head.

“Ok, no pranking the Slytherins,” Hamish acquiesced. “Why don’t ye write to Sirius, I’m sure she’ll be able to put what you saw into perspective. I mean, ye only saw one incident from Snape’s point of view.”

Holly nodded. “Yeah, you’re right, I’ll go write to her.”

She marched up the stairs to the dorms, leaving Hamish once more alone with his thoughts. Now that the chaos of the week had passed, Hamish found his thoughts returning to the last DA session. What bothered him wasn’t so much that they had barely had time to practice Patronuses before Umbridge spoiled the evening, after all, Holly had emphasised how difficult it was to produce a corporeal Patronus, admitting it had taken her many attempts before she could do so herself. It was the memories he had used to produce the Patronus.

Why couldn’t it be of Iolo? Hamish asked himself.

Surely the time he spent with his boyfriend was happy? His mind wandered back to the times they had snuck out onto the grounds after days of lessons, their Hogsmeade weekends, and those moments they had found between classes. There was no reason for those not to be considered happy memories.

Or maybe you should be thinking about what you were doing with him, a voice whispered in his head.

Hamish recalled Iolo’s lips pressed against his, the feel of his hand in his curls. It was true that when alone, much of their time was spent exploring, often leading to tie being undone and shirts unbuttoned. A flush crept up his cheeks as Hamish’s thoughts turned to the other things they had done in the boathouse down by the Black Lake. If those Hufflepuffs hadn’t arrived, things might have gone further.

So, it’s been mostly physical, the voice returned. Is that what you want?

Hamish didn’t have an answer.


	19. Holly

**Holly**

The end of May rolled around, bringing with it the lethal combination of summer sun and exams. For Holly and her friends, this year’s exams were particularly important as they would be taking their OWLs, which helped determine what they would do in life. For Umbridge meanwhile, it was a test of self-aggrandisement, as he struggled to explain to the doddery old examiners why their cherished Albus Dumbledore was no longer in charge of Hogwarts.

Holly’s gleeful joy was short-lived, however, as Heracles had decreed their study group would be meeting on Sundays as well as its usual twice weekly sessions.

“These exams are vitally important,” he had replied to her and Ronnie’s groans.

“But what about my weekend breaks?” Ronnie asked plaintively.

“You already take too many “breaks” during weekdays,” Heracles answered.

So, the debate was ended, and Sundays were sacrificed in the name of passing their OWLs.

Nevertheless, in spite of her initial aversion, Holly was grateful for Heracles’s insistence. While she was sure she wouldn’t have failed any of her exams, the extra study time made her feel a little more confident walking about of her Potions, Charms and Transfiguration exams. She was sure Divination and Herbology would be met with Passes, and she hoped to make Hagrid proud if she got an Exceeds Expectations in her Care of Magical Creatures exam; thankfully the latter had mostly relied on a practical element, so Holly only sustained the odd scratch from demonstrating the correct handling of Bowtruckles, rather than another gruelling hour in the stifling great hall.

It seemed like an age, but the last week of exams finally arrived. Hamish and Heracles were unfortunate in having exams scheduled morning and afternoon for much of the week. Holly, meanwhile, had nearly finished.

This thought kept her going as she waited with the others for the practical element of their Defence Against the Dark Arts OWL. She was halfway down the register, and nearly jumped when her name was called.

The elderly witch moderating in shimmering samite robes was sat in her chair when Holly approached.

“Oh, just my good luck,” her small voice betrayed her excitement. “I’ve heard good things about you Miss Potter, Professor Dumbledore speaks very highly of you,” she leaned forward, lowering her voice so only Holly could hear. “Not like this Umbridge man.”

Holly almost snorted, even the examiners saw through Umbridge.

“But don’t worry, dear, all you need to do it demonstrate a few simple spells for me,” the examiner said kindly. “The first of which is Disarming.”

Holly turned to the mannequin that stood in front of the desk, it looked old enough to have been around when Sirius was at Hogwarts. In its wooden hand was clasped a stick, simulating a wand. She drew her own wand, took a breath, and cast the spell

 _“Expelliarmus!”_ The stick leapt from the mannequin’s hand, Holly catching it in her other hand.

“Oh, well done, let me just tick that off my list,” said the examiner happily.

Holly took the time to see what the other students were doing. Several seemed to be struggling with Disarming their mannequin, though Holly was pleased to see Luna Lovegood disarm hers in a single attempt.

“Using these pillows,” Holly tuned back to the examiner, who was gesturing to some pillows she had conjured. “Demonstrate the Stunning Hex.”

Galvanised by her success disarming the mannequin, Holly decided to set herself a small challenge. She picked up one of the pillows and tossed it into the air. She followed its descent briefly, before firing off a Stunner.

 _“Stupefy!”_ The pillow flew across the great hall as Holly’s red bolt struck it, knocking Zacharias Smith on the head as it landed.

Holly turned to find the examiner chuckling quietly.

“A tad over-enthusiastic, but you have demonstrated mastery of that spell,” she said. “If you wouldn’t mind using another pillow to show me the Freezing Jinx.”

 _“Petrificus Totalus!”_ The second pillow became immovable, the folds and creases stuck in place.

“Well done, Miss Potter,” the examiner clapped.

“Do I need to demonstrate anything else?” Holly asked, brushing some green strands from her eyes.

“No, that is all,” she replied. “Unless,” she lowered her voice again. “Rumour has it that Holly Potter can cast a corporeal Patronus. I wondered if I might be able to see that.”

Holly felt a little nervous, she had never demonstrated the Patronus Charm in front of an audience she barely knew. Seeing Umbridge standing by the entrance to the great hall however, Holly grinned. This would be an ideal opportunity to show up the High Inquisitor.

Concentrating on the idea of living with Sirius, Holly took a deep breath and raised her wand.

 _“Expecto Patronum”_ Her falcon soared from the end of her wand, swooping low over Umbridge’s head and causing him to drop his clipboard and quill with a clatter.

The row of seated examiners erupted into applause as the falcon landed on Holly’s shoulder. She allowed it to fade.

“Well, I think that just about wraps you up, Miss Potter,” the examiner was clearly pleased as she stamped Holly’s paperwork. “Remember that your written exam is at nine thirty, so show up outside the great hall at ten to.”

“Thanks, I will.”

)(

Holly was grateful they had been allowed to change into warmer clothes for their Astronomy exam, wearing jeans was far more preferable to wearing a skirt or paper-thin trousers in the cold night air high atop the Astronomy tower. Unfortunately, while Holly could indulge herself with a thick jumper, hat and scarf, she was forced to bare her hands to the cold in order to use her telescope and fill in the star-chart.

As she peered into her telescope to get a second look at the position of the Orion’ belt, she felt Ronnie’s hand on her arm. Her blue eyes were filled with concern, and Holly was half-ready to tell her that she should just skip those she didn’t know, when she heard Hamish whisper something.

“What are they doin’?”

Following where Ronnie was pointing, Holly’s eyes spotted the group of figures leaving the castle. They were led by the unmistakeable portly form of Umbridge.

“Aurors,” Ronnie breathed quietly. “But who are they after?”

“Please refrain from talking,” said one of the examiners gently.

Holly ignored him, preferring to see what Umbridge was up to.

It soon became clear as they group turned down the path towards Hagrid’s hut.

Holly chanced a glance behind her, to find several others were now watching the spectacle as it unfolded. When she returned her attention on Umbridge, Hagrid had emerged from his hut to greet the party. Holly couldn’t hear what was said as a gust of wind flew over the battlements, whatever was exchanged did not go down well apparently, as the Aurors fired a volley of Stunning spells. But this only had the effect of enraging Hagrid, who, with his giant’s blood, had a natural resistance to magic.

The Stunners bounced harmlessly off his overcoat, prompting him to return inside.

“Still half an hour to go,” the examiner called again, but by this time, most people had turned to see what was going on below.

“What is the meaning of this?!” Professor McGonagall was striding down the path as her voice drifted up to them.

Several of the Aurors turned to stop her from getting any closer. It seemed Holly’s head of house had no time for them however, for they were thrown the side as she advanced on Umbridge. The High Inquisitor for his part, seemed intent on taking down Hagrid, who was advancing through a hail of curses with Fang over his shoulder as he painfully made his way towards the school gates.

“What is this meaning-” McGonagall’s voice was cut short as she was hurled through the air by a Stunning spell as Hagrid sped past her.

There was a roar of anguish as Hagrid paused to see her crumple to the floor, only to be shooed off by another volley of curses.

“Merlin’s beard,” even the examiners had given up on the exam.

“Do you think Professor McGonagall is going to be ok?” Holly asked.

“It was only a Stunning spell,” replied Heracles. “But I don’t think she’ll be leaving the infirmary for a while.”

)(

Heracles proved to be right, as Professor McGonagall was bed-bound on Friday and the last day of exams. He had paid her a visit after his Arithmancy exam, returning to the common room with a glum look on his face.

Holly had little time to dwell on this however, as they had to attend their Defence Against the Dark Arts written exam. The great hall was already stifling when she took her seat in front of Ronnie, the examiners having opened every window possible. She took a sip of water from her bottle before retrieving her quill and placing it on her desk.

The exam script booklet was closed, the boxes for her name empty.

“You may write your name in the box,” said the invigilator at the front, and there was a flurry of quills scratching. “This is the written examination for Defence Against the Dark Arts, lasting two hours. The time is nine thirty, you may open your examination scripts and begin.”

Opening onto the first page, Holly smiled as the questions greeted her. This was one exam in which they had been no need to revise any notes from Umbridge’s class. Holly glanced across the row, Daphne Greengrass was going through the booklet, reading the questions, while Zacharias Smith appeared to be constipated.

  * _Describe the effective use of the Disarming Charm._



Holly picked up her quill and began to write.

She had come to the last question, when the effects of the dry heat began to take their toll. Shaking her head, Holly tried to focus on the words she had written so far, discussing the merits of using a Cutting Hex indirectly to incapacitate an opponent.

_Not only do you avoid causing permanent damage to a potential ally, but-_

The black tiles were cool against her bare feet, a welcome change from the heat of the hall. Row upon row of dusty shelves, piled high with glass orbs, stretched into the distance in every direction. Before her, the kneeling figure shivered. Perhaps it was from cold, perhaps from what awaited her.

“You will bring me that prophecy,” she said in a cold, high voice.

“You’ll have to kill me,” the figure grunted in reply.

“Oh, I will, but first you will fetch it for me,” she smirked. _“Crucio!”_

The figure slumped to the floor, crying out in agony as she writhed on the ground, her cries blending with Holly’s cold laughter.

“Miss Potter! Miss Potter” A voice shook Holly awake.

Blearily, she looked around, confused as to why she was on the floor, her chair kicked to the side.

“Miss Potter, are you alright?” The voice that asked belonged to the invigilator, who regarded Holly with a concerned gaze. “Do you require a break before returning to your paper?”

“I- what no,” mumbled Holly as she regained her bearings and clambered to her feet. “I finished anyway,” she lied, unwilling to get back into her chair.

“I see, per the rules I will escort you out of the examination room to the infirmary,” he said curtly.

Holly barely registered this as she followed him out of the great hall, ignoring the concerned stares of Heracles, Ronnie and Hamish. But as they neared the doors to the infirmary, she perked up.

“No, I’m fine, I don’t need to see Madam Pomfrey,” she said abruptly.

“Miss Potter, you fell from your seat while crying out,” the examiner said gently. “This is just to ensure nothing ill befell you.”

“No really, it was nothing. I need to get my bag.”

Before the examiner could say another word, Holly had erupted into a run back to the great hall. She paused to snatch her satchel and jumper, then continued back to the common room, taking the stairs two at a time and slipping behind a tapestry for the shortest route.

There was still some time before the others would arrive, so Holly got out of her sweaty uniform and doused herself under a cold shower. She was waiting by the entrance of the common room when Hamish, Heracles and Ronnie burst in, questions clearly brimming from what they had seen.

“I had a vision,” she said, holding up a hand to cut off their babbling.

“A vision?!” Heracles sounded shocked. “I thought your lessons with Professor Snape were about cutting off this connection.”

“Snape cancelled our lessons,” admitted Holly quickly.

“Cancelled? What?!” Heracles’s brown eyes were wide in surprise at the news.

“It’s not important,” she said.

“Not important?! Holly, this is about You-Know-Who we’re talking about!”

“Sirius is in danger!” Holly almost shouted.

“In danger, how?” Hamish asked, running a hand through his curls.

“Voldemort has him,” she replied.

“Where?” Ronnie’s long nose was wrinkled as she tried to tease out the information.

“I don’t know,” Holly slumped into an armchair in defeat. “It had black tiles lining all the floors and walls,” she began to list off the details she could remember, trying her best to remember something other than Sirius’s cries of pain. “Erm, it was in a room with loads of glass spheres, Voldemort was asking for a prophecy.”

“That sounds like something you’d find in the Department of Mysteries,” Ronnie mused. “Dad’s mentioned it sometimes, no one knows what they do down there. The people who work there are called Unspeakables.”

“Hang on, this could be a trap,” Holly stared at Heracles. “We don’t know if You-Know-Who knows about the connection with Holly’s mind, if he does, how do we know this isn’t a fabrication to trick Holly into a trap?”

“We could always check if Sirius is at home,” Hamish suggested.

“Okay, fine,” Holly threw her hands in the air.

“But the only fireplace that isn’t being monitored is Umbridge’s,” said Heracles. “We’d need a distraction to keep him occupied.”

“Did somebody say distraction?” Dean Thomas asked, as if he had been waiting with Luna for this very moment.

“Er yes,” replied Heracles. “But we’d need more than just you two to pull it off successfully.”

“Oh, I’m sure Ginny and Daphne would be happy to help,” said Luna breezily as the girls stepped through the portrait hole.

Holy felt uneasy including Ginny in the plan, Ronnie’s sister had been avoiding her since Christmas, so she wasn’t sure where she stood with her.

“Do you guys want to help Holly with a distraction?” Dean asked, waving them over.

Daphne flicked her blonde hair out of her eyes. “Sure, would this be keeping Umbridge occupied?”

“Are we annoying Umbridge to get back at him?” Neville asked from the steps to the dorm.

“How did you…?” Holly began to ask, then rolled her eyes. “Never mind. Yeah, I need to get into his office for a bit.”

“Do we have time to get changed?” Dean asked. “Only I’m feeling grotty after another day in the great hall.”

Holly nearly banged her head against a wall. Sirius was in danger, yet her friends wanted to freshen up first. Of course, she couldn’t just tell them, as far as anyone was aware, Sirius Black was a wanted murderer.

“Five minutes, we’ll be outside,” she waved them off.

Twenty minutes later, and Ginny, Daphne and Neville were telling people that Hamish had filled the routes around Umbridge’s office with Itching Gas.

“Is that even a thing?” He had asked.

“Probably not, but people would expect it of you,” said Daphne slyly.

Meanwhile, Luna and Dean were setting off fireworks in the west wing corridors. With Umbridge on his way to deal with the mess, Holly, Hamish, Ronnie and Heracles sneaked into his office. Holly tossed a handful of Floo powder into the fire.

“We’ve probably only got a few minutes, so once I’m done, we make a break for the hidden alcove by the disgruntled knight’s armour,” she said as she knelt in front of the green flames. “Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place,” her head whipped past a dozen fireplaces before she opened her eyes in the kitchen of her godmother’s house.

“Siurs?” She called, her voice echoing in the empty room. “Sirius, are you in?! Where are you Sirius?!” Holly grew desperate as the silence between her cries grew more oppressive.

A shuffling drew her attention to a dirty pair of feet that approached the fireplace. Kreacher the house-elf observed her with what Holly could only describe as amusement.

“Holly Potter, the mistress’s ward is here. But what is she wanting?” He croaked.

“I need to see Sirius, is she in, Kreacher? Where is Sirius?”

“Out she is,” Kreacher nodded, his bat-like ears flopping. “Mistress told Kreacher she would be out for some time.”

“You had better not be lying to me Kreacher,” said Holly, the panic in her voice rising.

But before Kreacher could reply, Holly felt a hand on her head, and she was tugged roughly out of the fire. She landed on her back, the roots of her hair stinging painfully. Umbridge stood over her, his face resembling a toad contemplating its meal with the grimace stretching his features.

“Well hello, Miss Potter,” he said, allowing her to get to her feet. “Now, what would you be doing using my Floo?”

Holly was silent, wondering how she would wriggle her way out of the situation. The door opened with a thud, and Ginny, Luna, Daphne, Neville and Dean were trooped in by Nott, Crabbe, Goyle, Flint and Pansy Parkinson. Crabbe and Goyle held Dean by the arms as they forced him into a chair, the others were held at wandpoint.

“It seems your friends were trying to distract me from an invasion of my own office,” Umbridge had a manic look on his face. “A very serious offence.”

“This one tried to curse us,” said Crabbe, his round face pink with barely suppressed anger.

“Did he now?” Umbridge’s eyes turned their attention to Dean, who only grunted in reply. “Well, it would seem a suspension for you is in order, Mr Thomas. The rest of you are going to be in detention for the rest of the year. And as for Miss Potter, she must tell me what she was doing in my fireplace,” he gloated menacingly.

“Nothing,” Holly said curtly, sticking her chin out.

“You called, High Inquisitor,” a cold voice sneered. Snape stood impassively in the doorway, observing the scene before him.

“Ah good, have you brought the Veritaserum as I asked?” Umbridge asked quickly.

“Sadly not, you depleted my stock some time ago in your quest to find the illicit group Potter was leading,” he replied.

Snape’s in the Order, Holly’s mind yelled. If she could only subtly communicate to Snape, he might be able to get word to the rest of the Order.

“He’s got Padfoot. He’s got Padfoot in the place that it’s hidden,” she said abruptly, hoping Sirius’s old nickname would do the trick.

“Padfoot? What is this nonsense, Severus?” Umbridge demanded.

For a moment, Holly thought she saw a flicker of recognition in Snape’s black eyes. It proved illusory, however.

“I’ve no idea I’m afraid,” he replied smoothly. “If that’s all, Inquisitor,” he said, before leaving the room.

“You might just change your tune in a moment,” said Umbridge breathlessly as he turned back to face her. His face was becoming flushed, and Holly couldn’t help but feel his eyes roving up and down her body. A cold shiver passed down her spine. “Professor Snape tells me that he has run out of Veritaserum, so it seems what Cornelius doesn’t know, won’t hurt him,” he said, placing a framed photograph of the Minister face-down.

Holly’s eyes widened in amazement and shock, Umbridge meant to torture to get the information.

“But that curse is illegal, an Unforgivable!” Heracles cried, coming to the same conclusion.

“The ends justify the means, Mr Granger,” said Umbridge calmly, his delight etched across his face as he drew his stubby wand.

“Holly! Tell him! Or if you won’t, I will,” Heracles interrupted Umbridge’s joy once more.

“Tell me what?” Umbridge snapped, clearly annoyed at being interrupted a second time.

“About the weapon,” replied Heracles, doing his best to appear genuine.

If Umbridge had seemed gleeful at the prospect of torturing Holly, he was positively giddy at the thought of seeing Dumbledore’s “secret weapon”.

“Weapon?”

“The weapon Dumbledore planned to use against the Ministry,” Heracles elaborated. “I-I can show you.”

“Very well,” Umbridge drew himself up. “You and Miss Potter will lead me to the location of this, weapon,” he gestured for Holly to stand with his wand. “The rest of you, keep this lot under guard until I return.”


	20. Heracles

**Heracles**

“How much further is this thing?” Umbridge gasped, out of breath from the walk down to the forest.

“Not too much further,” replied Heracles, clambering over a tree root. “It had to be somewhere no one would walk on it unexpectedly.”

He led Umbridge and Holly down the same route Hagrid had forged through the undergrowth from his hut several weeks before. Roots and low-hanging branches slowed their progress as Umbridge had Holly push them aside to stop his velvet robes being damaged.

“Do you know what you’re doing?” Holly asked him quietly, her red hair carrying a handful of pine needles from when she had moved branches for Umbridge.

“Improvising,” he replied tersely. In truth, Heracles had no idea what he was doing. He hoped that by leading Umbridge to Grawp, they would happen across something that would allow them to escape his clutches long enough to plan their next steps.

The clearing was just as Heracles remembered it, with one glaring exception. The rope that had attached Grawp to a particularly sturdy tree was broken, and the giant was nowhere to be seen. He stopped walking abruptly, causing Holly to bump into him.

“Shit,” he whispered.

“Well?” Umbridge came up behind them. “Where is this weapon?” He looked around the clearing expectantly. “There isn’t one, is there?” Umbridge’s powers of deduction knew no bounds. “You know, children were never my idea of fun, too stupid and silly.”

The sound of a branch snapping drew their attention to the herd of centaurs that had stopped at the lip of the ridge on the opposite side of the clearing.

“Move on, centaur, this is a Ministry matter,” said Umbridge imperiously, which only served to entice the centaurs into coming down the slope and encircling them.

“The fat human thinks he can command us,” said the leading centaur, an individual with a mane of auburn hair running down his back. “But what of the other two?”

“They are but children, Perseus, let them be,” said another, a female.

“It is true, but children grow into adults,” he said.

“And not all adults are savages. These are friends of Hagrid I recognise, and Hagrid has always been respectful of us,” she added.

“I’m warning you,” said Umbridge, apparently oblivious to the debate occurring over him. “I am prepared to use force to ensure that half-breeds like yourselves don’t interfere.”

The word “half-breeds” was like a trigger, prompting the centaurs to rear in outrage, their hooves thudding on the forest floor loudly. But before Heracles or Holly could make a break for it, Umbridge was firing off curses at any centaur in sight, and Grawp had lumbered onto the scene to pick up the plump High Inquisitor.

“Put me down, filthy animals!” Umbridge roared, his wand falling to the floor, only to be snapped by a falling hoof.

The centaurs unslung their bows and began firing arrows at Grawp and Umbridge, most of them sinking into the giant’s forearm as he shielded his face. Holly grabbed Heracles’s hand and dragged him out of the clearing, tugging him behind some bushes.

“Now is not the time to stand there gawping, Cles,” she hissed as Grawp dropped Umbridge into the waiting arms of the centaurs, who dragged him off into the deeper woods.

“Tell them I mean no harm, Potter,” he screamed. “Tell them I am not a threat.”

“Sorry, professor,” said Holly quietly as Umbridge’s cries grew fainter. “I must not tell lies.”

Heracles glanced at Holly as they emerged from behind the bushes, she was clutching her scarred hand tightly.

“Thank you, Grawp,” he said, looking up into the giant’s sad face as he was picking out arrows. “I’m sorry we can’t stay; our friend is in trouble. Hagrid will be back soon, and Hamish promises to visit after we’ve finished.”

Heracles wasn’t sure if Grawp understood, but they had to leave regardless.

They ran back, dashing back up the path to the castle. Thankfully, they didn’t have far to run, as Hamish, Ronnie, Dean, Luna, Daphne, Ginny and Neville were waiting for them in the entrance quad.

“I thought you were being guarded,” said Heracles when they were close enough.

“We were, but then this one had a good idea,” said Daphne, gesturing to Ronnie.

“I had some of Fred and George’s puking pastilles in my pocket, said I was hungry and was going to eat them,” explained Ronnie

“Course, Crabbe and Goyle couldn’t stand the thought of someone else eating but not them,” Dean continued.

“So, they barged righ’ over an’ stuffed the whole lot into their mouths,” added Hamish through snorts of laughter.

“Already sounding pretty dramatic,” Holly chuckled. “Guessing Ronnie didn’t give them the antidote.”

“Yeah, they ate enough for six people before Hamish opened up a portal after Nott and the others tried to stop them,” answered Ginny.

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” Heracles asked tentatively, hesitant if he wanted to know the answer.

“That the Inquisitorial squad is falling through six people’s worth of vomit in Umbridge’s office?” Ronnie asked innocently. “They might be.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been more disgusted yet proud of you,” said Heracles.

“I hate to burst the bubble, but how are we going to get to London to save my godmother? My broom is locked in the dungeons and no one knows how to Apparate,” Holly said impatiently.

Luna, who up until that moment had been silent, piped up. “We can fly of course, on the thestrals. You and I can see them, Holly, so we can help everyone get on one.”

“Look, I appreciate everything you guys have done so far, but I can’t ask you to follow me,” said Holly, shaking her head.

“Don’t be stupid Holly, we’re comin’ with you,” Hamish crossed his arms defiantly.

“No, I’m sorry, but I can’t just let you walk into this. None of you have faced this kind of thing before,” she remained adamant.

“Then what was the point of Dumbledore’s Army, if not to prepare us for this sort of thing?” Neville asked pointedly.

“He has a point, you know,” said Dean. “You taught us Defence so we could use it.”

“Besides, you’ve got no idea how to get to London, or where your godmother is,” said Daphne slyly. “You can’t save Sirius Black on your own.”

“How did you…?” Heracles began to ask.

“Took me a while, but you just confirmed it,” she said with a grin.

“The point is, Holly, you don’t really have a choice,” Ronnie concluded.

Holly’s gaze settled over each of their determined faces. “Ok, but I don’t wanna hear any complaints. And we follow my lead when we get there.”

Heracles’s confidence dissipated quickly when it came to mount a thestral. Even with Luna so obviously steadying a beast, it was more than a little unnerving to find oneself seated on something yet be able to see the ground underneath.

“Put your hands here,” Luna led his hands into what Heracles assumed was the beast’s mane. “And Neville can get on behind you.”

Once they were all mounted on their thestral, all in pairs but Hamish, Holly gave the signal to take to the air.

“Hey, how come I have to ride alone, on somethin’ I can’t see?” Asked Hamish.

“You’re the one who likes animals, just get a feel for the beast,” replied Holly.

Whatever Hamish retorted with was lost to Heracles, as the thestrals chose that moment to pick up their wings and begin the journey south. The wind whipped at Heracles’s bushy hair, tugging at his jeans as the ground shrank beneath them. Heracles decided at this moment, that the best option as to simply close his eyes.

“Isn’t this amazing, Cles?” Neville shouted behind him.

“No, it most certainly is not!”

He heard Ginny and Daphne’s laughter overheard and shut his eyes tighter.

Eventually, after Heracles wasn’t sure how long, he didn’t dare dwell on it, he heard Holly cry out.

“I can see London, let’s begin our descent! Ronnie, lead the way to the visitors’ entrance!”

The visitors’ entrance came in the form of a red phone box.

“Are you sure this is it? We’re not looking for some blue police box or anything?” He asked after clumsily dismounting the thestral.

“What?” Ronnie’s gave him a bemused look before opening the phone booth’s door.

“Never mind,” he grumbled, annoyed that he was the only one who understood the reference.

“Normally you ring the number seven and say what you’re here for,” said Ronnie after they had all crowded into the booth. “Can anyone reach?”

Heracles kept his arms to his side, wishing Ginny’s elbow wasn’t in his stomach. Mercifully, Holly had a free hand.

“Erm, Holly Potter and her friends, we’re here to rescue someone,” she said tentatively.

“Holly Potter and friends, rescue mission,” a disembodied voice said, followed by the sound of several metallic objects falling into the coin collection tray as the door closed. There was a jolt, and they began to descend, the pavement rising up to Heracles’ eyes.

Once the pavement was above their heads, the flickering neon of the street was left behind, and they descended in darkness. After a while, light began to spill in through the bottom, becoming brighter as their booth arrived in a large atrium. Their footsteps echoed in the empty space as they fell out.

“Should we wear these badges?” Neville asked, cradling the objects the lift had given them.

“Couldn’t hurt,” said Ginny, and they each pinned a badge to their chest.

“Guessing it’s those lifts,” said Holly as she gestured to the row of old-fashioned lifts waiting for them on the other side of a large fountain.

The statue in the centre of the pool of water depicted a handsome wizard and pretty witch shooting water from the ends of their wands. Around them were carved stupendous renderings of a centaur, goblin, and elf, who looked up adoringly at the human pair as water spouted from the ends of their arrows and ears. Heracles thought it was grotesque, a bastardisation of reality. 

“Ye’re not instillin’ confidence in me, Hols,” said Hamish light-heartedly.

“Whatever,” she replied. The golden grille rattled shut behind Heracles before Ronnie stabbed the button for the Department of Mysteries.

After a jarring ride in the lift, during which Heracles was sure he would vomit due to its insistence at going sideways and downwards at high speed with rapid deceleration, the grille clanged open.

“Floor four-hundred and twenty-seven, home to the Department of Magical Justice, Wizengamot chambers and Department of Mysteries,” said the small tannoy.

They found themselves at the end of a long corridor, whose floors and walls were covered in smooth black tiles. Every few metres, they would pass a mahogany door with a large brass knocker and doorknob. The names on these doors were apparently so old that the names were barely visible after the engraved lettering was filled with years of grime. They way was lit by a series of gas lamps that gave off an eerie, green glow which was reflected in the tiles.

“Holly, do you know where you’re leading us?” Daphne asked slowly.

“There,” replied Holly, pointing at the door at the end of the corridor that emerged from the darkness.

It didn’t take long for them to reach it, Holly yanking it open to reveal what lay beyond: a circular room lined with more doors. When Dean shut the door behind them, the walls began to move. Heracles was reminded of some fairground rides, the green gas lamps blurring into one until the wall came to a sudden halt.

“Let’s just take this one,” said Ronnie, clearly annoyed by the whole affair.

Inside were row upon row of shelves towering high above them and reaching off into the distance, each shelf covered in dusty glass spheres of all sizes. Stepping into the vast chamber cause Heracles to shiver slightly, prompting him to glance enviously at Neville’s coat and Hamish’s seeming indifference to the cold as they entered a new temperature regime.

They drew their wands together, lighting them almost synchronously as Holly began walking purposefully forward, zipping up the golden sports hoodie gifted her by Sirius. Hamish led them in following, their lit wands scanning up and down the shelves. Each sphere contained swirling clouds that reacted when poked, as Heracles did several times until Ronnie stopped him with a stern look, almost as if they were somehow sentient.

“She should be here,” said Holly, having stopped. “She was right here in my vision.”

“Maybe she was moved,” suggested Dean, beginning to look around, casting his wand light down several rows of shelves.

“Holly? One of these things has your name on it,” Neville stared at a small sphere cradled in a granite bowl. As Heracles came closer, he read a set of names crudely engraved.

_Holly Petunia Marlene Potter & Tom Marvolo Riddle_

“Don’t touch it Neville,” warned Daphne. “We’ve no idea what enchantments are in place.”

“What is it?” Hamish asked.

“A prophecy,” said Heracles. “I think,” he added as the others looked at him. “If what I read was correct, the ones here can only be removed by those they concern: in this case Holly, or this Tom person.”

“Well, I might as well have something,” said Holly, plucking the tennis ball-sized sphere from the bowl, prompting Ginny and Neville to gasp.

“You ought to learn the difference between dreams, and reality,” said an arrogant voice. “This makes things far too easy.”

Heracles picked up his head and pointed his wand towards the source of the statement. A Death Eater, his mask black and gilded silver, was approaching them, another was coming up the way they had arrived, yet more were walking down the rows. Within moments they were surrounded.

“Holly, what do we do?” Hamish edged closer to her.

She held up the hand holding the prophecy. “Nothing yet,” Heracles heard her say under her breath.

“Where’s Sirius? Where’s my godmother?” Holly demanded.

The lead Death Eater passed his wand across his mask, which dissolved to reveal the smug face of Lucius Malfoy.

“I’m afraid, my girl, that you saw what the Dark Lord wanted you to see,” he smirked. “Now, give me the prophecy,” he proffered a gloved hand.

“Why should I?”

“Ooo, I like her, feisty,” a second voice cackled from the shadows. Bellatrix Lestrange, her cheeks gaunt and eyes sunken, stepped into the wandlight. “Why, hello you,” she pointed at Neville. “How’s mum and dad?”

“Better, now they’re about to be avenged,” replied Neville, his temper rising as quickly as his temper. Heracles snapped his arm across Neville’s chest to prevent any further rash moves.

“Bella my dear, don’t taunt the boy, there’s no need to cause a ruckus,” said Malfoy, placing a hand on Bellatrix’s shoulder.

“Urgh, fine,” she moaned.

“So, Potter, we return to the prophecy,” said Malfoy stiffly.

“I’m not handing over anything until you give me a good reason.”

“Because if you give me that prophecy, I can answer all the burning questions you have,” he said. “Why the Dark Lord tried to kill you so many years ago, why you survived. Haven’t you always wanted to know why you carried that scar?”

“I’ve waited my entire life,” replied Holly. There was a pause, during which Heracles and the others waited with bated breath. Heracles turned slowly to face the Death Eater that had blocked their entry. “I suppose I’ll just have to wait a few more years. Now!”

_“Stupefy!”_


	21. Hamish

**Hamish**

_“Stupefy!”_

Hamish’s Stunning spell met its mark, throwing the Death Eater off his feet. He barely had time to register his success before Holly was tugging on his arm.

“This way!” She cried, Hamish close on her heels.

“Did you see that?!” Dean’s excitement was infectious as they sped past the rows of shelves.

“Aye,” replied Hamish, instinctively ducking his head as a curse shattered several prophecies.

Chancing a glance behind him, Hamish groaned internally as the Death Eaters regrouped and gave chase, Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange snapping off curses as they went.

“In here!” Daphne shouted, pulling Hamish and Neville through an open door.

“What about the others?” Neville panicked as Daphne shut the door firmly behind him.

“We’ll have to split up, throw the Death Eaters off Holly’s tail,” she explained matter-of-factly, her hazel eyes scanning the room.

“We can find them once we’ve lost some of them,” Hamish nodded in agreement. “Get word to the Order.”

The chamber they found themselves in was filled with clocks, an entire bookcase of ticking mechanisms at the back of the room. On a table in the centre was a tank; inside it, a large egg was cracking. As they watched, a bird hatched, squeaking for its mother before it sprouted feathers and began to flap its wings. This burst of flight last several seconds before the bird aged in front of their eyes, flopping dead, only for the dead bird to disappear and be replaced an egg that was cracking.

“Tha’s not what I expected to see this mornin’,” said Hamish, dumbfounded at the display.

Suddenly, the door burst open, and a pair of Death Eaters entered. Hamish dived behind a large grandfather clock as they shot yellow flashes from their wands.

 _“Stupefy!”_ He cried, only for the red bolt to be lazily cast aside by the nearest Death Eater.

The Death Eater retaliated, blasting apart the grandfather clock Hamish had hidden behind. He stumbled, stunned now that he was in the open.

 _“Expelliarmus!”_ Daphne shouted, and the Death Eater’s wand flew from his hand.

With the Death Eater distracted, Hamish pointed his wand at the shelf of Timeturners and a large sand clock. _“Et agito!”_ He cried, sending the Timeturners crashing into the Death Eater, causing him to trip on the sand as he attempted to close the gap with Daphne. The resulting fall caused him to smash into the tank in the centre of the room, tossing the cracking egg from its nest.

 _“Stupefy!”_ Neville cried, blasting the second Death Eater against the door to slump onto the floor.

Emerging from their hiding places, Daphne and Neville joined Hamish in watching with horrified fascination as the Death Eater, shorn of his mask, regressed into babyhood. Seconds later and he was a wizened old man. The swings between being on the brink of death and a newborn continued even as he failed to pry himself free.

“Let’s go, before his friend wakes up,” said Daphne, opening another door.

The rest of the Death Eaters had apparently continued their chase, leaving the hall of prophecies empty.

“Back to the first room, maybe we can regroup there,” said Daphne, starting to run back the way they had come.

By a stroke of luck, they emerged back in the same room at the same time as the rest.

“Where did you guys go?” Asked Ronnie.

“Doesn’t matter,” replied Daphne. “Point is there’s two less Death Eaters to worry about.”

“We have to get out word to the Order, and get back to the surface,” said Heracles, a trickle of blood oozing from a cut in his cheek.

As the room stopped spinning again, Holly led the charge through the nearest door that presented itself. The screams should have been enough for Hamish to stop, but Ginny’s presence behind him spurred him to continue. He felt his stomach lurch as the ground gave way beneath him, sending him falling downwards. The ground rushed upwards to meet him, and Hamish had the feeling that he could hear his mother asking him if he would jump off a cliff if his friends were doing likewise.

He was saved from giving an answer when he came to a stop a foot from the ground, floating for several seconds before finally flumping onto the hard surface.

“Cushioning Charm,” explained Heracles as he dusted himself off. “You’re welcome.”

Hamish groaned as he got to his feet. “Tha’s the last time I let Holly lead me through some doorway,” he said.

“Where are we?” Neville asked.

“A very good question,” said Hamish quietly, taking in the room they found themselves in. Far above them, the open door through which they had fallen was still ajar, light poured in, joining the purple light of the braziers placed around the room. The walls of the circular wall were lined with the same black tiles as the corridor that had led them into the Department of Mysteries. In the centre, atop a stone dais was a stone arch, seemingly broken from a larger structure; a white curtain, so thin it was near transparent, fluttered under the arch, as if moved by some breeze Hamish failed to feel.

Drawn out of curiosity, they clambered onto the dais, Hamish helping Ronnie to find a foothold, and began to approach the archway.

“Can anyone else hear that?” Holly asked tentatively.

“Hear what?” Ronnie’s long face betrayed her confusion.

“The voices.”

“There aren’t any voices I’m hearing, Holly,” replied Heracles.

“I can hear them too,” said Luna, her wide eyes darting across the archway.

“Maybe this is like thestrals,” suggested Hamish.

“So only Holly and Luna are hearing voices because they’ve seen death?” Daphne asked.

Whatever Heracles said next was lost, as several black shapes descended upon them. Hamish tried to fire off a spell, only for one of the shapes to connect with him, yanking him off his feet and carrying him around the room. He landed heavily by the wall, his knees buckling slightly, the wand of a Death Eater, whom Hamish now recognised to be Corban Yaxley’s, digging into his throat. In the corner of his eye, Hamish spotted Ginny being restrained by Augustus Rookwood. Beside him, Neville was the reluctant prisoner of Bellatrix.

“One move, boy,” Yaxley growled into his ear.

Hamish tightened as Lucius Malfoy slowly walked across the dais towards Holly, miraculously untouched save for a cut below her ear.

“I’ve been more than fair, Potter,” he said coldly. “Now, give me the prophecy, or watch your friends die, starting with the Weasleys.”

“Don’t give to him, Holly!” Neville cried out, receiving a kick to the knee for his trouble.

Holly looked around the room, her eyes meeting Hamish’s for a brief moment. She looked deflated, defeated. It was hard for Hamish to shake the feeling that this was the first time Holly had felt powerless. Whereas before she had only had to worry about herself, by having allowed them to accompany her, she had given the Death Eaters perfect leverage. A wave of guilt washed over him, even as Holly reluctantly handed the prophecy over to Malfoy.

As Malfoy lifted the sphere clasped in his hand, there were several flashes of golden light from behind the archway.

“Get away from my goddaughter,” muttered Sirius, stepping out from behind the archway.

Feeling Yaxley’s grip loosen, Hamish took the opportunity to push his elbow backwards, relishing as it made contact with something soft behind him. Yaxley doubled over in a coughing fit, giving Hamish enough time to draw his wand and freeze him.

 _“Petrificus Totalus!”_ Yaxley keeled over, fixed in place as he hit the ground with a crunch of broken wand.

Spinning around, Hamish took in the scene. Holly and Sirius were duelling Malfoy, the prophecy now back in Holly’s hand, Daphne and Ginny were fending off Bellatrix and Dolohov as Tonks and Remus engaged another Death Eater. Dean crashed into Hamish, MacNair snapping off a handful of curses at them.

 _“Protego!”_ Hamish cried, the shield shattering as the first spell made contact with it, forcing them to dive to the side to avoid the rest.

“Nice one!” Dean yelled. _“Rictumsempra!”_ MacNair was tossed backwards, caught off-guard by the hex. “Luna,” Dean almost whispered, before skirting around the room to join his girlfriend, leaving Hamish to deal with MacNair.

Thankfully, the arrival of Ronnie, Daphne and Mad-Eye at that moment spared him from the challenge, Moody wrapping up the Death Eater in ropes. Just as Hamish tried to take stock of his situation, the tiles behind his head exploded, showering them in pieces of shattered ceramic. Rookwood advanced on them, spells spitting from the end of his wand.

Hamish was about to throw up a Shield Charm, when the Death Eater slashed his wand in a diagonal arc. Standing at the rear, Hamish felt nothing as Ronnie and Daphne fell like marionettes with their strings cut. Mad-Eye shouted something incomprehensible as he attacled Rookwood, the two being lost in a flurry of flashes and spells as Hamish rushed over to the girls. A faint lilac glowed across their chests before fading.

Seconds later, Hamish was joined by Neville and Ginny.

“Daph, Ronnie, wake up!” Ginny cried, shaking their shoulders desperately.

“It’s albight, they’re still abive!” Neville shouted over the sound, dried blood caking the lower part of his face.

“We have to get out of here, the Order can deal with this!” Hamish began to lift Ronnie into his arms.

“I saw an exit over there,” Ginny gestured over her shoulder, relief filling her brown eyes.

“Nev, help me with Daphne,” said Hamish, hauling Ronnie close to his chest as he got to his feet. “Lead the way, Gin.”

It was slow going carrying their unconscious friends, but Hamish and Neville make headway, stopping occasionally to allow for duels to pass them by. Heracles, Dean and Luna spotted them through the hail of spellfire, managing to avoid being incapacitated themselves as Kingsley took on Dolohov and Jugson. Holly and Sirius appeared to be gaining the upper hand against Malfoy atop the dais, Sirius barking her approval at Holly’s spell-work.

Just as the exit came in sight, Hamish had the bizarre sensation of his left foot refusing to make contact the with ground, leaving him unable to make another forward step. He looked over to Ginny to ask her if she could see anything wrong with his leg. Ginny cast her eyes over from Stunning Mulciber.

Her brown eyes widened like saucers, and Ginny screamed and recoiled in horror, pointing downwards. Hamish followed the path of her finger. He was greeted by the sight of his leg ending at the knee, the lower portion clearly missing. Blood spurted from the shredded ends of his jeans.

“So much fer runnin’,” he mumbled as his world went black.


	22. Holly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This would have been posted two days ago, but due to me thinking that clouds would mean the sun wouldn't punish a welshman for going to the beach, I've spent those two days with damp towels on my limbs and back, and wincing a lot.

**Holly**

“Nice one!” Sirius cried, ducking to avoid a white bolt from Malfoy.

Holly grinned. Together, she and Sirius had thrown Malfoy on the back foot, allowing Holly to wrestle the prophecy from his grasp. Seconds later, to their horror, Malfoy’s attempt to retrieve it had resulted in the sphere shattering on the archway. The embattled Death Eater struggled to regain control of the situation, slashing his black wand in short, sharp arcs as he tried to outmanoeuvre their spellwork, to no avail. Whenever he shot off a curse at Holly, Sirius would deflect its course, allowing Holly to counter with her own hex. In the end, Malfoy spent more time fending off their attacks than dishing out his own.

“Thanks,” Holly shot back with a grin as Sirius fired a volley of spells. “You’re not bad yourself. _Expelliarmus!”_

Distracted by Sirius’s last jinx, Malfoy’s wand soared out of his hand. Seizing the opportunity, Sirius twirled her wand, disorienting Malfoy before snapping off a red bolt.

“Confundus Charm, for when you don’t want them to dodge your finisher,” explained Sirius to Holly as she turned to assess the situation.

Holly nodded, beginning to move towards where Remus and Tonks were battling Mulciber, when Bellatrix landed in front of them.

“Hello, cuz,” she grinned manically, thrusting her wand forwards quickly and casting an Expulso Hex, tossing Holly through the air like a ragdoll.

Shaking her head in an effort to stop the ringing in her ears, Holly clambered to her feet, finding Sirius and Bellatrix engaged in a furious duel. With them both moving so quickly, it was hard to tell one from the other, and Holly hesitated before joining in.

Her hesitation was all it took, as Bellatrix cast a flurry of jinxes before Impedimenting Sirius, who stumbled, tripping and falling through the archway.

Holly waited for several moments, expecting her godmother to step out from behind the veil, laughing before continuing the duel. Yet nothing happened, and the longer nothing happened, the more Holly began to question herself.

“Sirius? Sirius?!” She cried, hoping that if she just yelled loud enough, her godmother would return. After all, she had picked out what she would wear when she moved in with her.

Bellatrix laughed, a cackle that prompted Holly to turn to face her. “I killed Sirius Black,” she called over her shoulder as she ran off, Holly hot on her heels.

Holly leapt over someone’s collapsed form, nearly tripping over a leg as she sprinted after Bellatrix. She skidded around a corner as Bellatrix dove into a lift, the grille clanging shut as the lift shot upwards. Frustrated, Holly stabbed the ivory button to call another, leaping inside as one arrived and almost punching the button for the atrium. When it arrived, after what felt like agonising minutes, the lift stopped, Holly blasting open the grille angrily as she resumed her chase.

Bellatrix was already on the other side of the large fountain, prompting Holly to fire off a Reductor Curse, taking off the goblin’s head as she did so. She was so caught up in the anger she felt, that Holly barely registered as her mouth formed the incantation.

_“Crucio!”_

Bellatrix yelped in surprise, tripping over her own feet and falling to the ground. She spun around to face Holly, who slowed while keeping her wand level with the Death Eater’s chest.

“Ooo, didn’t think ya had it in you, Potter,” Bellatrix’s mouth drew into a grin. “But you really have to mean it, you have to want to cause someone pain if you’re going to use my spell.”

A small part of Holly yelled that what she was doing was wrong, that it would make her as bad as Bellatrix. The rest of Holly silenced the voice, this was the witch that had killed Sirius, and no punishment was too great.

However, before Holly could put Bellatrix’s advice into practice, she felt a chill descend her spine. Her scar began to prickle, little darts of pain embedding themselves in her skull. Bellatrix’s own face was filled with fear as she looked over Holly’s shoulder, colour draining as fast as Holly lowered her wand. She slowly turned around, her breath sounding loud in her ears.

Lord Voldemort seemed to float above the floor in front of the fountain, his face considering the situation. At his side stood a bald Death Eater, a great scar running from one ear down across his mouth and chin to his throat.

“It is as you predicted, my dear Stilicho,” said Voldemort, disappointment dripping from his voice.

“I’m afraid so, my lord, much to my dismay,” the scarred man named Stilicho answered. Despite his brutish appearance, the man’s voice had a cultured inflection, as if he was brought up around grouse shoots and tweed.

The sound of a fireplace erupting into life startled Holly. Emerging from the green flames, Professor Dumbledore approached the scene. Voldemort’s stance changed entirely, shifting to something more defensive as the headmaster approached. Holly felt a calming wave of relief wash over her, Professor Dumbledore was the only person Voldemort ever feared.

“It was foolish of you to come here, Tom,” said Professor Dumbledore sternly, as if reprimanding a pupil. “Robin, you disappoint me, finished causing mischief abroad I take it?”

“Stilicho, see that Bellatrix returns to our headquarters in one piece, I will deal with her later,” said Voldemort. The man marched past Holly, barely sparing her a glance. When he did, Holly shivered on seeing his eyes. They blurred through difference colours, Holly seeing clouds of gas floating through as if his eyes were windows onto another plane. “Not at all, Dumbledore, for by the time they arrive you shall be dead, and I gone.”

Before Holly knew it, Professor Dumbledore had pushed her aside as he and Voldemort engaged in a ferocious duel. Jets of light flew between the pair as they cast spells Holly had never seen before. Professor Dumbledore flicked his wand, and a chunk of fireplace rocketed towards Voldemort, who deflected it into the fountain before conjuring a fiery serpent which grew to tower over them, hissing and spitting flames. Before it could strike however, Professor Dumbledore had dumped the water from the fountain on it, extinguishing it and capturing Voldemort in a swirling ball of water.

Tentatively, Holly approached Professor Dumbledore. However, he only forced her back with a wave of his hand, returning his attention to Voldemort, who had taken the opportunity she gave him to burst free of his prison. He let out a yell as he spread his arms, shattering the glass of the office windows above and around the fountain. Pointing his wand at them, Voldemort sent the shards of glass hurtling towards Holly and Professor Dumbledore.

Expecting the worse, Holly raised a shield. She was relieved when Professor Dumbledore’s own shield reduced the glass into dust that harmlessly settled at their feet.

Seemingly perturbed by this, Voldemort’s face settled as it vanished in a swirl of black robes.

“Did we win?” Holly asked tentatively.

“Holly, remain still, I fear Tom may have a few more tricks up his sleeve,” replied Professor Dumbledore.

The headmaster proved right, as there was a swirling of glass dust before felt something forcing her onto her hands and knees, then on her back. She writhed in agony as she felt her mind open against her will.

Images flashed through her mind, blood running out of the wounds in her hand, Aunt Marge’s dog chasing her up a tree. Things slowed as Holly found herself standing in front of a mirror, her reflection was that of Voldemort. She tried to look away, but found her head being held in place.

She blinked and found herself on the floor of the atrium once more. Professor Dumbledore was knelt before her, his eyes full of fear. Holly had never seen such an emotion in the headmaster’s eyes, terror filling her in response.

Holly nearly screamed as she felt Voldemort’s will opening her mouth.

“If you are so powerful, Dumbledore, why not kill me in this form, surely the life of this girl is less than the cost of letting me exist,” her voice said, disembodied from her mind.

“Holly, you are stronger than you realise,” said Professor Dumbledore, ignoring Voldemort and speaking directly to her. “He does not understand what you have: love.”

She could understand what Professor Dumbledore meant, to expel Voldemort from her mind, the fell presence that was clawing at her scar, she would have to think of things she loved.

Holly strained as she struggled to bring up images of her friends. She could hear Hamish’s laughter as one of their pranks succeeded, Ronnie and Heracles were bickering over something stupid again. They posed for a photograph at the beach, Mr Williams giving them the thumbs up that is was a good one.

“You’re the weak one,” she struggled to say. “You’ll never know love, and- and I feel sorry for you.”

Suddenly, Holly felt a wrenching pain, as the voice of Voldemort screamed in pain and anger. There was the sensation of something tearing itself free of her, before she opened her eyes to find him floating above her.

“You’re a fool, Holly Potter, and you will lose everything,” he said quietly.

There was the sound of flaring fireplaces, flashes of green at the edges of her vision. Voldemort looked around him, panic flashed across his features. He snarled, before disappearing in a gust of black robes.

Holly struggled to right herself. A strong urge to gag resulted in her retching onto the floor as she rolled onto her stomach.

Fudge, dressed in pyjamas and dressing gown, was pale.

“He’s back,” he said abruptly.

Aurors spread out from behind Fudge, moving swiftly through the atrium as they looked for further signs of Voldemort’s return.

Holly felt a pair of hands help her to her feet, Professor Dumbledore allowing her to lean on him as he conjured a handkerchief for her to wipe her mouth.

“Dumbledore, it seems I owe you an apology,” Fudge’s voice betrayed resentment as he approached them. “Unless my eyes deceived me, you and Miss Potter were right.”

“I only wish I could say we were wrong, Cornelius,” replied Professor Dumbledore. “Your Aurors should find members of the Order rounding up a party of Death Eaters sent here to trap young Miss Potter and her friends,” he guided Holly to a bench at the side.

She stared at the row of lifts as they waited for her friends to emerge. Eventually, Remus and Tonks led the party over, Kingsley and Mad-Eye choosing to report to Fudge what had happened. Bruised and battered, Ginny, Neville, Heracles, Dean and Luna trudged over, nursing various wounds. Holly’s throat tightened on seeing the three stretchers levitated by Remus. Daphne, Ronnie and Hamish were unconscious as they floated past.

A bright flash alerted Holly to the arrival of the press, fireplaces disgorging journalists and their photographers.

“It’s time to leave, Holly,” said Professor Dumbledore quietly, taking her by the shoulder as he led her to one of the fireplaces. There were shouted questions, but Holly ignored them. “My office,” said Professor Dumbledore as he cast a handful of powder into the flames.

Professor Dumbledore’s office was much as Holly remembered it, magical instruments quietly tinkering on the tables.

“Holly, I must express you my condolences, your loss is keenly felt,” said Professor Dumbledore as they took seats in armchairs by the Pensieve. “Sirius was the guardian you deserved after all your years of hurt, by my blundering hand I hasten to add. You meant the world to her. To have this possibility stripped from you is cruelty.”

Holly mumbled something she thought sounded like a “thanks”.

“I don’t understand why Kreacher lied to me,” she said abruptly, thinking back on her brief conversation through the fireplace.

“The simple explanation is that while Kreacher cannot lie to his master, this obligation is not extended to others,” began Dumbledore slowly. “However, it is also likely that Sirius’s treatment of Kreacher engendered a certain amount of resentment. When you appeared, asking for her whereabouts, Kreacher saw an opportunity to avenge this and lied.”

“But Kreacher was always horrible,” said Holly, anger flaring. “He always said horrible things about me and my friends. Sirius never wanted to have him!”

“True, but only due to the manner in which he was raised,” continued Dumbledore. “While Kreacher held views that you and I find repulsive, and Sirius make known her hatred of being cooped up in a house that held painful memories, it remained entirely within her power to treat Kreacher with respect, rather than brush him off as a relic of another age.”

“How dare you!” Holly sprang to her feet. “Sirius was kind, and never treated anything poorly unless it deserved it.”

“I daresay you are correct,” Dumbledore nodded, the golden glow of the lamps glinting in his silvery beard. “But this was the Sirius you knew, a being quite different to that experienced by others. Sirius was human like all of us, so we must remember her flaws and all. And one of these was her treatment of Kreacher.”

Holly looked into her headmaster’s blue eyes. At that moment, she felt a sudden urge to yank at his beard and smash his half-moon spectacles on the stone slab floor. Instead, she did the next best thing, picking up a ticking platinum clock and throwing it against the wall. Still unsatisfied, Holly put two hands under the table and lifted with all her might, devices crashing to the floor as the table was tipped on its side.

“There is no shame in you are feeling, Holly,” said Professor Dumbledore calmly. He seemed unmoved by the destruction she was reaping. “That you feel pain like this is your greatest strength.”

“My greatest strength?” Holly spat. “You haven’t got a clue, you don’t know…”

“What don’t I know?”

“I don’t wanna talk about my feelings, alright?” She snapped.

“Holly, suffering like this simply proves that you are a woman. This pain is part of being human.”

“Then I don’t want to be human!” Holly screamed, throwing a tray of glasses against the wall as her vision became blurred. There was a raging beast within Holly, roaring its approval with each object destroyed as she kicked and stamped her way through the devices clattered on the ground. She was vaguely aware of the eyes of the portraits following her every move, but she ignored them. They had no more business staring at her than Dumbledore had right to say such things about Sirius.

She felt anger like she had never felt before. This was different to the times when she had felt Voldemort’s anger, worlds away from the anger she felt after Umbridge ruined her year, this hot rage was her own, and it was tinged with something else.

“I don’t care!” Holly bellowed, slamming a small telescope into the fireplace. “I’ve had enough, seen enough!” She barely felt the scalding tears spill onto her cheeks. “I don’t care anymore!” A shoehorn clattered against the door.

“You do care,” Professor Dumbledore’s voice clearly across her thoughts. “You care so much; you feel as though you will bleed to death with the pain of all of it.”

“I don’t!”

“Oh yes you do,” he replied quietly. “You have now lost your mother, your father, and the closest thing to a parent you will ever know. Of course, you care.”

“You don’t know how I feel! You, sitting there!” Holly cried as the tears streamed down her cheeks. She turned the door, kicking the shoehorn aside. It was locked. “Let me go,” shouted Holly.

“No.”

“Let me out!” Holly screamed, so loudly that she felt her throat might tear, and for a second she wanted to rush at Dumbledore and break him too; shatter that calm old face, shake him, hurt him, make him feel some tiny part of the horror inside Holly. “Let me out or I’ll-”

“Not until I have had my say,” he said, gesturing to the empty armchair by the Pensieve.

“I don’t want to hear anything you’ve got to say!”

“Then by all means, Holly, continue to destroy my belongings. It’s quite fair to argue that I have too many,” he said calmly. “You have every right to be furious, though you really ought not to be angered by what I have said, but what I refrain from telling you.”

Holly was in the process of attacking another set of furniture when she heard this. It took some time for the words’ meaning to percolate through her brain, by which time the armchair was a tattered husk of former comfortable glory.

Breathing heavily, Holly turned to face Dumbledore, who stood and made his way over to the alcove in which the Pensieve was kept.

“It is my fault that Sirius died,” he continued. “Or rather, it is almost entirely my fault- I won’t be so arrogant as to claim the whole. Sirius was a brave, clever, energetic woman, and such women are not usually content to remain hiding while they believe others to be in danger. Nevertheless, you should never have believed for an instant that there was any need for you to go to the Department of Mysteries tonight,” he sighed. “Had I been open with you a long time ago, as I should have been, you would have known that Voldemort might try to lure you to the Department of Mysteries. You would never have been tricked into going there tonight. And Sirius would not have had to come after you. That blame lies with me, and me alone,” he finished. “Please, sit down.”

Slowly, reluctantly, and wiping her weeping eyes, Holly crunched over the broken paraphernalia and fell into what was left of the armchair.

“Holly, I owe you an explanation,” said Dumbledore. “An explanation of an old man’s mistakes. For I see now that what I have done, and not done, with regard to you, bears all the hallmarks of the failings of age. Youth cannot know how age thinks and feels. But old men are guilty if they forget what it was to be young … and I seem to have forgotten lately… 

“Fourteen years ago, there was a reason why I ensured your aunt took you in,” he began as she joined him. “For years I debated divulging this vital piece of information. At first, it seemed reasonable enough, you were so young. You faced Voldemort a second time and survived, I should have told you then, but I reasoned you had processed enough information. Regrettably, I sent you back to your aunt without fully answering your questions.

“In your second year, you faced him again, coming out on top from a clash with a basilisk. Part of me said that you deserved to know the full truth. But no, twelve was too young to hear such things, and so I dithered again,” he continued, his eyes holding regret. “I kept producing excuses on increasingly flimsy bases, hoping to delay the inevitable. This became painfully apparent after your aunt and uncle ceased to be your legal guardians. I should have told you why I believed it necessary for you to remain in that abusive household for so long, even when it became a hindrance on your healthy growth as a person.

“Your third year came, and you were briefly reunited with your godmother. Both of us learned new information regarding the night you were orphaned. This should have been the sign that I could no longer delay; yet delay I did, prevaricating under the pretext of not wishing you to be burdened so soon after finding a long-lost parental figure,” sighed Dumbledore. “At the end of the TriWizard Tournament, the return of Voldemort should have spurred me to tell you. But fourteen was too young to know such things, and you had already gone through so much in so short a space of time.”

“And so we come to now, where five years have passed since you entered the magical world, Voldemort has returned, and you remain none the wiser as to why he wishes to kill you so much,” Dumbledore shook his head ruefully.

“Professor, when Lucius Malfoy was trying to get me to give the glass sphere, he said he could show why Voldemort attacked that night,” said Holly.

“Ah, the hall of prophecy,” nodded Dumbledore. “Yes, he may have been able to show you something, though his purpose was to retrieve the sphere so that his master might hear the prophecy within. As you no doubt have guessed, only the individuals concerned may retrieve a prophecy from the hall of prophecy. If he had tried to pick it up himself, Malfoy would have fallen foul of powerful, ancient magic.”

“So, Voldemort was after a prophecy about us?” Holly asked.

Dumbledore nodded. “Indeed. The tale of this particular prophecy begins a little over sixteen years ago. I had come to the Hog’s head, a fine establishment if you will recall from your own visit, to conduct an interview for the post of Divination teacher. To be frank, I had rather lost my appetite for the subject, for the Sight cannot be taught like any other magical skill. Nevertheless, the great granddaughter of the renowned Seer Cassandra Trelawney merited my attention, if only out of courtesy. As you well know, while Sybil Trelawney espouses fraudulent practices, she did inherit the Sight from her ancestor.

“In this case, it was as I was about to leave, thinking my fears were realised, when she spoke the prophecy concerning you and Voldemort,” said Dumbledore. “Sadly, we were interrupted by Professor Snape, at the time working for Voldemort. While he was caught eavesdropping, he did pass on the first half of the prophecy to Voldemort.

“Now, it should be established that on realising Voldemort meant to kill you, Snape was filled with remorse. He still held your mother dear in his heart, and came to me begging to protect them, a request I was all-too happy to fulfil in exchange for his loyalty as a spy in Voldemort’s camp,” added Dumbledore, seeming to anticipate Holly’s anger. “In any case, I have waited to long to divulge the contents of the prophecy to you,” he brought his wand to his temple, drawing it away with a glowing white strand which he prodded downwards into the Pensieve.

A woman grew of the swirling liquids, a familiar pair of spectacles magnifying her ears to enormous proportions. When she spoke, her voice was the same hoarse tone that Holly remembered from her third year.

_“The one who will defeat the Dark Lord approaches,_

_Born to parents who have thrice defied him,_

_They shall be born as the seventh month dies,_

_They shall have a power the Dark Lord knows not,_

_For neither can live while the other survives,_

_And the Dark Lord shall mark them as his equal._

_The one to defeat the Dark Lord approaches.”_

The woman collapsed back into the Pensieve.

Professor Dumbledore repaired the broken armchair, conjuring another for himself as he gestured Holly sit.

“I imagine you have questions,” he said after a moment of silence.

“Professor, I know this might sound silly, but why did you hire Professor Trelawney?”

“Partly because by speaking the prophecy, she proved that Divination was not a dead subject, even if her teaching methods leave a lot to be desired,” replied Dumbledore. “But, as Voldemort had only heard the first three lines of the prophecy, I was concerned he might try to reach her in a vain attempt to hear it in full. Until Voldemort is defeated, Sybil would be at great risk were she to leave Hogwarts.”

Holly nodded in understanding. “So, the prophecy, it describes me. My parents defied Voldemort three times, and I was born at the end of July.”

“You are partly correct, Holly,” said Dumbledore. “However, you may note that the words are vague. Sybil said “they”, leaving open the question of the child’s gender. In fact, “parents who have thrice defied him” and a birth at the end of July, also describe another person. Your friend, Neville Longbottom could easily have been the one spoken of in the prophecy,” Holly blanched. It was difficult to reconcile the sweet boy she knew with the prophecy. “You are forgetting the second part of the prophecy: “the Dark Lord shall mark them as his equal”. The crux to the prophecy, is that Voldemort would choose the one to bring him down. Quite why he chose to go to the Potters is a mystery, Frank and Alice Longbottom were equally gifted in magic. Perhaps it was the fact that you, like Voldemort, are a half-blood. Somewhere in his subconscious, Voldemort made the connection that only someone like him could be the one to defeat him.”

“The only reason I completely fit the description, and not Neville, is because Voldemort chose me?” It seemed so trivial a distinction.

“Exactly. Nevertheless, you must ask yourself: if the prophecy never existed, would you still wish to defeat Voldemort?”

“I mean, yes, of course,” she replied. “He’s a monster, he wants to see my friends dead. Why wouldn’t I want to stop that?”

Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled knowingly. “You see, there are many prophecies in the Department of Mysteries that have gone unfulfilled. Divination is not a precise magic. Even without taking it yours into consideration, you have admitted to wanting to defeat Voldemort. The prophecy simply makes it more personal; you have the added impetus of seeking justice for a stolen childhood. By failing to kill you, Voldemort marked you as his equal. Like all tyrants he has made his own bane, in this case marking you magically. Just as the Muggle tyrants of history were brought low by the people they sought to destroy, so Voldemort has sown the seeds of his destruction by blindly fulfilling the prophecy.”

“So, I’m destined to kill him, or he is to kill me?” Holly asked with trepidation, unsure if she fully understood. “I mean, the prophecy says neither of us can live while the other one survives. We’re like sides of a coin.”

“It is true you share traits with Voldemort, however, I must emphasise how you are different,” said Dumbledore patiently. “It was Voldemort that chose to act on the prophecy, not you, revealing that, despite his claims to power, he still falls under the enchantment of superstition. Had he ignored the prophecy, he would not be facing the skilled and determined foe in you. You yourself have admitted to wanting to see him defeated for reasons other than what was predicted sixteen years ago.”

“I think I see what you mean, professor,” mused Holly. “Voldemort wants to kill me because of a prophecy that he’s fulfilling, it’s out of fear. But I want to defeat him because he stole my parents from me and wants to destroy people like my friends.”

“You are astute in your observation,” said Dumbledore. “Now that the more important part is covered, I feel I should explain why you had to live with your aunt in Little Whinging for all those years.”

“That would make me feel better,” Holly admitted.

“When you mother, Lily, sacrificed herself to save you, she imparted a powerful magical protection,” said Dumbledore. “Love prevented Voldemort from killing you. Rather ironic considering his own disdain for it. Nevertheless, that magical protection was amplified by your blood. Though she never showed it, your aunt took you in because deep down she still loved her sister, and this extended the protection onto you both. As long as you called Number 4 Privet Drive your home, you were untouchable by Voldemort or his followers.

“At the time, I also believed that growing away from the fame endowed to you by the magical world would do you good,” he added. “While I maintain that it ensured you were sheltered from the dangers of childhood fame, I admit failing to act sooner to prevent the abusive relationship from your relatives. Now that you have left that dark place behind you, you have lost that protection initially given to you by Lily. However, I think it is best, and there are many powerful enchantments open to us so as to protect you from Voldemort until you are ready to face him.”

Holly nodded.

“There is not much left of the night,” Holly glanced up at the windows, the dark sky was turning a shade of blue as the faint sounds of birdsong could be heard. “I suggest some sleep, you have experienced much. Your friends will be in the infirmary.”

Professor Dumbledore’s words made Holly realise how tired she was, her limbs feeling noticeably heavy.

“I- thank you, professor,” she said as she got up to leave.

)(

Holly went to see her friends in the infirmary two days later, having spent the intervening day wandering the castle and grounds aimlessly processing the events at the Ministry and Dumbledore’s office.

It caused enough concern that Nearly-Headless Nick approached her, despite his usual aloofness to the living community.

“Miss Potter, you appear to be in some distress,” he commented as he joined her during the afternoon walking through the dungeons. “Might I be of assistance in some regard?”

Holly sighed. “My godmother just died.”

“Ah, I recall Sirius Black from her time at this school, a fine woman. I am so sorry for your loss, she would have made a good guardian for you,” he said wistfully.

Suddenly, Holly was struck by a thought. “Nick, do you think Sirius could be a ghost right now?”

“Alas, I do not think it likely,” he sighed. “For becoming a ghost requires a great deal of preparation, and until recently, your godmother did not have the time. Those who become ghosts must be anticipating death, which Ms. Black was not. It is not a pleasant experience, this state of undeath. Without regular interaction from the living, we are doomed to fade and join those who wait on us on the other side of the curtain, which is why so many of us congregate at magical schools.”

Holly had zoned out after his first admission. “Oh, never mind I guess.”

“Perhaps you may find a portrait of your late godmother that you can speak to.”

“No, it wouldn’t be the same,” said Holly sadly. “But thanks anyway.”

“Of course, if you have any more questions, I will be around,” he said as he floated off.

When Holly arrived in the infirmary, someone was already visiting her friends. The orange hair of Ginny was bowed over Daphne’s bed. She looked up when Holly approached, her brown eyes widened before seeming to accept the inevitable. She was sat on a chair between Daphne and Ronnie, both sleeping soundly, the cuts and bruises on her face now covered in unguent. If the situation wasn’t so serious, Holly would have laughed at how her sharp chin had doubled in size.

“Hi, Holly,” she greeted Holly in a hoarse voice.

“Hey, how are you?”

“I’ve been better,” she admitted. “But Madam Pomfrey says they’re both going to be fine, just need rest. So, things could be worse.”

Holly shifted from foot to foot uneasily. “I brought grapes,” she lifted the bunches she had taken from the kitchens. “Something they do in Muggle hospitals.”

“Listen, Holly, about what I said over Christmas,” said Ginny as Holly placed the grapes on the bedside tables of the beds. “It was, it was a lot and came out of nowhere.”

“No, Ginny, you listen,” Holly silenced her. “First things first, I was stupid not to come to you for advice when I thought Voldemort might be trying to possess me,” Ginny flinched at the name. “And secondly, it’s okay. Yeah, it was a shock, but then you know I am the worst at picking up on that sort of thing. I’m not angry, in fact I wished you hadn’t been avoiding me since then, I wanted to tell you sooner,” her brown eyes looked at her hands in her lap sheepishly. Grabbing a chair, Holly sat down in front of Ginny. “What you did was very brave, you had no idea how I’d react, both to you having feelings and swinging that way. So, don’t worry, I’m glad you told me instead of keeping those things bottled up.”

Ginny tentatively looked into Holly’s eyes. “Y-you’re not angry with me?”

“Nothing could be further from the truth,” Holly confirmed. “I might not feel the same way, but I’m not about to push away a friend. Friends?”

“Friends,” Ginny nodded vigorously.

“You look like you’re alright watching over them,” she gestured to Ronnie and Daphne. “Is Hamish around here somewhere?”

“He’s next to Madam Pomfrey’s office,” Ginny pointed to a bed by the frosted glass of the nurse’s quarters. “He’s stable but she wants to make sure he stays that way.”

“Thanks, Ginny,” said Holly, putting the chair back in its place.

Hamish was reading a letter in bed when Holly approached. Most of his wounds were healing, yet Holly couldn’t help but notice the marked way the bed sheet simply dropped off below his left knee.

“Hey,” she said limply, taking a seat. “How’s things.”

“Ye mean aside me being a stone lighter?” He asked, looking up from his letter. “Madam Pomfrey healed the wound,” he began, pausing to take a breath. His turquoise eyes, so typically brimming with mirth “But, she can’t regrow my leg, it’s gone,” even his curls seemed lacklustre as he admitted this.

“Oh, Hamish, I’m so sorry,” said Holly, gently embracing her friend. “You’ll be getting some kind of prosthetic, I guess,” she inquired as they ended the hug.

He sighed. “Yeah, I had this idea for something I can make over summer, for now I’ll be using crutches. There’s also this,” he handed her the letter. Holly barely had time to read the first few words when Hamish blurted. “Iolo’s dumpin’ me because he can’t face havin’ a disabled boyfriend. Our relationship was only ever physical to him, I wanted more,” he sobbed.

As Hamish cried into her shoulder, Holly was at a loss. Hamish was the calm and collected friend, this was not the role he was supposed to play. Hamish was the mediator when Heracles made astute but obtuse statements, he was the one who would talk Ronnie into studying, he was Holly’s shoulder to cry on when the it felt like the world was against her. She had no idea how to act in this situation where the tables were completely turned. She awkwardly rubbed his back as his body was racked by sobs.

“There, there, let it out,” she said, in what she hoped was a soothing voice. She felt a twinge of discomfort on realising a small part of her was celebrating. Deciding to unpack this piece of information later, Holly returned to comforting her friend.

)(

Hamish, Daphne and Ronnie had recovered by the time the end of the school year arrived. They shared the compartment with Holly, Heracles, Neville, Dean, Luna and Ginny, Daphne’s sister, Astoria, and her friends occasionally popping their heads in to talk. In between rounds of cards, Dean and Luna spent their time behind the cover of Luna’s Quibbler magazine talking in hushed tones so as not to irritate Heracles, who would discuss the rights of elves with Ronnie and Neville. Ginny and Daphne split their time between this discourse and their own conversation on the state of the Quidditch league.

Meanwhile, Holly picked up her battered copy of _The Hobbit_ , resuming where she had left off with the company arriving into Laketown. Every few minutes, she would glance up at Hamish, who stared blankly out of the window at the rolling countryside.

“Dean, are you and Luna gonna be keeping in touch over summer?” Holly asked, slipping her bookmark between the pages as she finished the chapter.

Dean looked up from the Quibbler, his almond eyes filled with embarrassment. The rest of the compartment stared expectantly.

“Er, well, I mean that is,” he stumbled over his words.

“I write to my friend Farsi,” said Ronnie.

“Not the same, Ronnie,” sighed Holly.

“Oh, oh like that,” the penny dropped.

“I’d like to,” said Luna cheerfully. “Summer holidays have always been lonely before, it’ll be like having you close.”

“Oh, ok, yeah great, we should definitely,” Dean blathered, his face radiating heat as he sank back behind the Quibbler.

Holly gave Ronnie a kick in the shin as she pretended to gag.

“Might I suggest we all stay in touch over the summer?” Heracles ran a hand through his bushy hair.

“Yeah, that’d be great,” exclaimed Neville. “I know it’s been tough with Umbridge and all, but I really enjoyed this year.”

“Let’s keep that DA spirit alive,” encouraged Ginny.

This was followed by a series of vigorous nods of agreement, before the group all turned to look at Holly.

“Why are you- I’m not the leader for crying out loud,” she protested. Sighing heavily, she said slowly. “I mean yes, obviously we’ll keep in touch.”

The train began to slow, Holly feeling the change in speed through her seat, as it began to pull into King’s Cross. The platform was crowded when they stepped off the train, parents waiting to the side for their children to bid their friends farewell and join them.

Heracles’s parents were accompanied by Mr and Mrs Weasley, who each gave Holly a firm hug.

“Good end to the year?” Mr Granger asked his son.

“Yes, I can tell you about it in the car home,” replied Heracles, before giving Holly and the rest a firm embrace. “I’ll see you guys in a few weeks,” he waved as Mrs Granger led the trio out of the station.

“Guess I’m gonna be stayin’ with ye for a wee bit then, eh?” Hamish said nonchalantly leaning on his crutches.

“Make sure mum and dad are busy for a minute,” whispered Ginny.

With her parents already fussing about Hamish’s leg, Holly didn’t see there being a problem in fulfilling Ginny’s request. Ronnie joined Holly, following Ginny’s progress through the crowd until she reached a group of witches and a wizard.

“Is that Daphne and her parents?” Ronnie asked quietly while Hamish struggled to calm Mrs Weasley.

Holly nodded, watching Ginny nervously tap Daphne on the shoulder. There was an exchange with Daphne’s parents as Ginny introduced herself. From Holly’s point of view, they seemed pleased to meet her. Perhaps Daphne had told her parents about Ginny and her friends.

“Is she doing what I think she’s doing?” Ronnie seemed slower than usual.

Holly shook her head in exasperation as Ginny took Daphne to the side. “Ronnie, I think it’s fair to say that Ginny is pretty much asking Daphne out,” she said, finding a sudden interest in the handle of her trunk as the pair kissed.

When Ginny returned, innocuously asking if anyone else felt hot, Mrs Weasley had accepted that Hamish was indeed the same person, and Mr Weasley acquiesced to the use of the shed so Hamish could modify the prosthetic due in the coming days.

Holly grinned, the year had been a long and gruelling one, but things were looking up.

“Why are ye lookin’ so cheerful?” Hamish asked.

“Because I’ve been thinking,” replied Holly as they left the station for Mr Weasley’s car, a red Peugeot that had yet to be battered by angry trees. “Even if Voldemort is powerful, we’ve got better reasons to fight.”

“And what’s that?” Ronnie lugged her trunk down the steps.

“Friends,” said Holly. “That’s something worth fighting for.”


	23. Epilogue-Priscilla

**Priscilla**

Professor Dumbledore was sat behind his desk when Priscilla entered his office. It was much as she remembered it from her time spent as Head Girl in her last year at Hogwarts, only this time Priscilla felt awkward and out of place.

“Ah, Priscilla, how are you? Please, take a seat,” Professor Dumbledore stood, gesturing to leather-clad chair in front of his desk.

“I’m well, thank you for asking,” she replied, placing her bag on the floor beside her.

“You are probably wondering why I invited you here on so short a notice,” he said resuming his seat.

“The thought did cross my mind.”

“Not to worry, I am not here to gloat about who was right, I’m sure the press will hypocritically do so,” his blue eyes twinkled. “In fact, I would like to ask you to do something, a task that must not be taken lightly.”

“Well, if it helps me repair the bridge with my family, I’d be happy to do it,” said Priscilla, wincing at her previous conversation with her father.

“You see, therein lies the most draining element of this mission,” sighed Dumbledore. “For it to succeed, you must maintain your distance from your family. I’m asking you to be a double agent in the Ministry. You have a job that puts you close to where decisions are made. I believe it is inevitable that the Ministry will fall; towards the end of the last war it was Voldemort’s plan to usurp the apparatus of government, and it is hopelessly compromised already. When it does, the fact that you kept distance from your family will aid you in passing vital information to the Order unnoticed.”

Priscilla was taken aback. “I see. I suppose I could remain aloof.”

“I know this is a difficult choice, I would not ask this of you if I believed there were a better alternative.”

“No, I understand. It’s something that needs to be done, and I’m in the ideal position to do so,” she steeled herself, straightening her back. “I’ll- I’ll do it. If I’m to make up for my mistake, then this is the best way.”

“Thank you, Priscilla,” said Dumbledore, getting up to shake her hand. “You have no idea how much this will help the cause.”

She left Dumbledore’s office head held high. While she knew the façade of estrangement would have to be maintained, Priscilla felt better knowing this time it would be for a good cause.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's that. I've started writing chapters for Holly's next year, but as I'm going into my final year of uni, don't expect these to show up immediately, it's going to be a busy year. So, go off, find another good fic, read a book, lie comatose until I start posting chapters again.

**Author's Note:**

> My proofreader and I have been hard at work over the past few months on this next chapter in Holly's story, I hope it doesn't disappoint. If the current pace continues, we should be done by August, but don't cite me on that.


End file.
